


The Letters

by CMi (CmiMiu)



Series: DaeJae [11]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Internalized Homophobia, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:32:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CmiMiu/pseuds/CMi
Summary: Dear Youngjae,Within these letters that I’m sending you, my love rests budding and all yours. Do as you wish with it. My words, though late, will speak for me.I’ve been an atheist for a better part of my life, but I’ve stumbled now upon a religion that blooms faith in my heart.My religion lies in my anticipation for your reply, Youngjae. My faith is that you’ll take me back one day.Or, a series of letters Daehyun writes to Youngjae after he leaves.





	1. The 1st Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This is an accompaniment to The Diary so please read that before you read this one. Can also be read independently.

Daehyun races over to the platform like a mad man. Staring into every cart for the face of his best friend. He eyes the clock on the platform timer and pulls at his hair wildly when it strikes twelve.

 

Just then, he makes out a mop of dirty brown hair in the third buggy and starts sprinting toward it. Calling out Youngjae's name as the train starts moving. The boy in the window jerks at the voice and sits frozen for and second or two before looking out the barred window.

 

Daehyun is running beside the train, smiling with tears locked in his eyes when Youngjae finally sees him.

 

As the train gains momentum, Youngjae watches, with tears in his eyes, the dark haired boy racing towards the buggy. His hand itches to pull at the chain that will effectively stop the car but he stops himself. He doesn't think he'll be able to leave if he stops now.

 

Daehyun soon catches up to the moving cart though. Jogging beside the buggy in which Youngjae is seated, he grabs on to the metal bars crying to the boy, lips wobbling, “you can't go without saying goodbye, brat!”

 

A sad smile flowers on Youngjae's lips and he pushes his hands through the bars to hold on to Daehyun's. They're cold. “Let go of the bars, idiot!” He mutters, grabbing onto his muffler and pulling it off before sliding it through the bars around Daehyun's neck. “You shouldn't be running beside the train.”

 

The other boy doesn't reply. He simply keeps running beside the train, accelerating rapidly as the train speeds up. For several stretched moments, neither speaks. Their eyes wet with emotions. Lips bitten between unsaid confessions. “I'm never gonna see you again, am I?” Daehyun asks gulping when Youngjae looks away at that.

 

Soon the train is running too fast and Daehyun can't hold onto those warm hands he'd called home anymore. He lets go of the railing, the cold hitting him like lightning. Continuing to run beside the vehicle nonetheless. “Stop running you fool!” Youngjae warns him, waving his arms through the bars. “Step back a little!”

 

But Daehyun doesn't stop. He's searching for something to say. Anything to etch this moment to memory. To emboss Youngjae's face in his mind for eternity. As the train speeds up and Youngjae starts going away from his grasp, Daehyun quickens his speed and gasps as he promises the boy.

 

“In another lifetime, when we meet again; I promise I'll love you first, Jae. I promise.”

 

By now Youngjae is crying. And so is Daehyun. As the train goes out of reach Youngjae mutters just loud enough for him to hear, “I love you, Dae.”

 

Daehyun thinks he's missed his chance, and watching the train turn the corner, Youngjae disappearing in the cloud of steam, he falls to his knees, clutching his chest. Whimpering to the now empty spot where Youngjae been.

 

“I love you, Jae.”

* * *

 

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

June 02, 1967

Dear Youngjae,

You may not even want to read this letter. You might throw it out once it reaches you, but I want to still try, Jae.

 

I woke up today with your Diary clutched to my chest and the sound of your father yelling curses at me. He almost beat me to a pulp for sneaking into your room last night.

 

I’m sorry… I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to make sure you were really gone. I don’t know what I was expecting when I climbed into your room’s balcony. Despite knowing you’re not in Suwon anymore, my heart still broke when  I found your room empty.

 

It’s barely been three days since you’ve left and my life seems to have paused at that last goodbye of ours.

 

The first night after you left, I couldn’t even sleep. I stayed up all night thinking about you. All night, Jae. Not a second of sleep graced me.

 

 _Has he reached? Is he okay? Are the clergymen there helpful? He didn’t get lost,_   _did_ _he? Seoul is so cold, did he remember to bring a sweater?_

 

All night, I kept thinking about you. I kept thinking about who’d save you from bullies in that monastery. Who would buy you ice cream in the snow? Who would cry with you over stupid novels? Who would share their umbrella with you?

 

It’s burning down here in Suwon right now, Jae. I’m sure Seoul would be warm too. And despite knowing that, I still stay up at night wondering who would hold your hands when your nails turn blue from the cold.

 

And I ended up crying.

 

This isn’t fair, Jae. You’re not supposed to go away. We’re supposed to fight this. We’re supposed to figure things out. I was supposed to apologise to you, Jae.

 

That day, when you were leaving for Seoul… I don’t know what came over me that day. I had ran to your home to say sorry - to say something! And when I found out you were leaving, I ran to the station just to get a glimpse of you before you left.

 

How could just leave without telling me..? How you leave in the first place?!

 

We are friends, Jae! Best friends! Does that mean anything to you?! Do my feelings mean ANYTHING!?

 

I am so angry my blood feels on fire!

 

Why did you just leave!? You’re not a coward, Jae! You’re not! Then WHY!?

Why couldn’t you just stay!? Why didn’t you talk me to!? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!?

 

Why couldn’t you give me some time, Jae? I wanted to talk to you. I had wanted to apologise to you the very next day after we had that talk under the mandarin tree. Why did you avoid me?

 

Was it because you thought I hated you? Was it fear?

 

Don’t you know me? Did you really think I would hate you? Did you really believe that I would be disgusted? Did you really think it mattered whether you like boys or girls?

 

Was I not a good enough friend to earn your trust?

 

Your Diary is here with me. I want to read it, Jae. And had I found it before, I wouldn’t have a spared a moment of thought and just read it. But now I’m scared.

 

You don’t trust me like I thought you did… You’ve kept secrets and you’ve lied. And though I don’t resent you for that, I’m scared.

 

Not of you and your love. I’m scared of what you’ve written in those pages. I had prided myself for being a good friend but now I’m not so sure.

 

 _How do the words in that Diary paint me? How do you see me? Am I an ignorant asshole that led you on? Were my actions suggestive? Did my words ever hurt you? How did cope with your feelings? How much_ _you must’ve_ _hurt?_

 

I’m scared of finding out how much you loved me, Jae.

 

I want you to know that I love you too. I want you to know that just because my love is different it doesn’t mean it doesn't exist.

 

I miss you, Jae. I miss you so much that every atom in my body is praying for you to come back.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

  



	2. The 73rd Letter

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

June 26, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,

It was sweltering hot today. The kind of hot where you can trace the sweat that runs down your back. It was sticky and humid and I swear I almost drowned in my own sweat and tears today.

 

I missed a lot today, Jae.

 

Remember how we used to take over the playground during the summer. Two sixteen-year-old boys, jumping on swings and riding the merry-go-round. Screaming like banshees.

 

I remember when we used to hang from the monkey bars, we’d end up getting blisters in our hands.

 

We used to get sand in our eyes when we played in the pit.

 

And used to burn our asses from the hot plastic paint on the metal slides. God! That used to sting so bad. I tore so many of my jeans just sliding down that stupid contraption.

 

Urgh! We used to get nauseated and start throwing up after our fifth round on the merry-go-round.

 

We used to have so much fun during that time. So much fun that we never even realised that we were actually getting hurt.

 

We kept going to that playground despite all the scars that littered our bodies and all that spanking from our parents for getting home late or ruining our clothes or just hurting ourselves.

 

I can’t believe we craved that playground so much that we were willing to even get hurt for it…

 

Was loving me like that, Jae?

 

Did you love me so much that you overlooked my obliviousness? Did you love me so much that you never even let me know that you were hurting? Exactly how much did you love me that you simply smiled every time I mentioned a girl?

 

Why do you love me, Jaejae? What’s so special about me? What did I do that made you want to love me?

 

Right now, standing in the middle of the playground, all I remember are the good times. Just the good things. Us laughing. You and I, enjoying ourselves. Our smiles that were glued to our faces. You and me together.

 

All I see are beautiful memories.

 

It’s funny really, how I can feel every happy emotion I shared with you in this small little playground but I can’t feel how much it hurt to get a fracture from falling down from the seesaw. Or how much pain I was in when I scratched my face against the rocky ground when I fell face first into the gravel while climbing the rock wall.

 

Does loving me feel like this, Jae? Do you forget you’re hurting when you’re loving me? I hope you do. Anything would do as long as you’re not hurting, Jaejae.

 

I’m sorry, Jae.

 

I’m sorry for not loving you back in the way you want me to. I’m sorry for not being what you need me to be. I’m sorry for hurting you, Jaejae.

 

I’m sorry that I’m the bittersweet memory that is so rose tinted that you are forced to forget just how much pain it has caused you.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

* * *

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

June 29, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,

Do you know where the end of the universe is? Have you ever wondered what lies at the end of this space we call home? People say it’s infinitude - that’s what they say, at least. That the world has no beginning or end. That it’s endless, ceaseless.

 

I never believed that.

 

How could I when I’d never seen anything that could show me that it’s true? How could I ever believe in the concept of infinity, when I’d never seen, never experienced, anything limitless before?

 

That was before you left though, Jae.

 

I believe in infinity now.

 

I believe in the concept of never-ending. I believe that something can be boundless.

 

Your love for me was infinite, Jae.

 

Your dedication. Your feelings. Your faith in me was inexhaustible. You were devoted to me, just as much as you were to your God and that makes me feel like a sinner.

 

I’m an atheist, and I take pride in my lack of faith. I don’t believe in a God and I’ve never worried about angering him - I’ve always known you never did like that.

 

But you make me feel like a God and I’m scared of sinning.

 

Because when I am reading your Diary, I can almost see you crying into the pages. Mumbling into your pillow as you continue your entry. About what I wore on a particular day and why you think your heart skipped a beat when you saw me that day. About what I said one day, and how those words are engraved into your heart for life now. About the way I smiled at you and why you cried when you got back home that day because you felt guilty for liking me.

 

Because when I’m reading your Diary, I can’t help but cry too. At the entries in which you’ve cried so much that your tears which fell on the Diary, have smudged the ink onto the paper. At the entries that boast of insecurities and self-hatred. At the entries that you wrote professing your love to me, fearing the day your feelings become apparent.

 

I believe in infinity now, Jae.

 

So please come back. Come back already.

 

I’m waiting for you, Jae. I’ll wait for an infinity and then some more. So, please…

 

Come back.

 

I love you,

Daehyun.

* * *

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

August 13, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,

This is my twelfth letter to you and I still haven’t received any replies. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must be feeling when you receive my letters.

 

Are you hurting that much, Jae? Do my letters hurt you more?

 

I want to stop hurting you, Jaejae. I don’t want to repeat the mistakes I’ve made in the past.

 

But Jae…

 

I can’t stop trying to reach out to you. I just can’t stop hoping that you’ll reply one day.

 

I met Youngwon today. He was the one who gave me your address, you know? I had begged him for it - he was more than willing to give it to me (he always did like me, didn’t he?)

 

He was at the post office too. I didn’t think to ask why he was there. I was too busy asking your whereabouts. I didn’t get much information though. Aside from the fact that you’re fine and that you haven’t mentioned me even once after moving away.

 

Your brother misses you a lot, Jae. We talked for hours yesterday. Did you know Mrs. Yoo is pregnant? We get to be Uncles, Jae! Youngwon looked really excited. I’m thinking of visiting your sister in law tomorrow. Despite all those jokes we crack about her, she was always really kind to us, huh?

 

He told me you that phone him almost every day. That you even write to him every week.

 

Why don’t I get a reply, Jae?

 

Please write to me, Jae. Please give me a reply. Just a single word to prove that you’re reading my heart in these letters would be enough.

 

Or better yet, please just come back, Jae.

 

I love you,

Daehyun.

 


	3. The 90th Letter

Junhong stares at the letters in his grandfather’s cupboard and scrunches his eyes in confusion. He’d been cleaning out the man’s cupboard and helping his mother with her move when he came across a box taped shut. Moving the box itself proved to be a task in itself and Junhong frowned trying to think of what could his father possibly have hidden in it.  
  
  
  
He’s not sure what compelled him to open the box but he sure wasn’t expecting to find it filled with letters addressed to a certain  _Yoo Youngjae_. “Mom!” he yells out, walking into the kitchen to find her putting her cutlery into the cardboard boxes. “Mom,” he calls out again and when the woman turns toward him, he raises the letter and waves it as he says, “are these important?”  
  
  
  
“What are they?” the old lady wonders out loud, wiping her dusty hands on her apron and walking up towards him to get a better look at the letter her son was holding.  
  
  
  
“They’re letters.” Junhong shrugs, letting his mother examine the old paper. “I found them in Grandpa’s cupboard. There’s a lot more where that came from.” he elaborates, pointing at the letter.i  
  
  
  
His mother meets his eyes with a look of bewilderment and recognition, “they’re addressed to Yoo Youngjae.” A gentle smile on her lips at the mention of the person.  
  
  
  
Junhong raises his eyes at that gesture but he doesn’t say anything of it. It’s been two weeks since his grandfather passed away and this is the first time his mother has smiled. “Do you know him?” he asks instead.  
  
  
  
Nodding fondly, she pats his head and hands him the letters back. “I know him well. Your grandfather did too.” She moves back to the boxes and Junhong gives the woman a confused look. A silence lulls over them before she’s speaking again, “you should read them.”  
  
  
  
“But it’s addressed to someone else, Mom” Junhong mumbles watching his mother get back to her task of packing up the porcelain plates. “And why should I?”  
  
  
  
The woman’s mouth twitches in what could only be called desperation. Junhong watches her smile from the corner of his eyes but he’s almost sure it’s a bittersweet emotion she’s harbouring when she tells him, “your Grandpa would’ve wanted you to read them.”  


* * *

 

  
22-456 Apdong Road,  
  
Suwon, Gyeonggi-do  
  
  
August 30, 1967  
  
  


  
Dear Youngjae,  
  
The summer heat has given way to cool, evening breezes. Of course it’s just as hot as it usually is, but the days have gotten shorter. Night are longer. Normally that would be a welcome instance for the people of Suwon, but it’s not a good news for me.  
  
  
  
Do you know why?  
  
  
  
Because nights remind me of you. I used to sneak up into your bedroom to run away from my father. We used to giggle all night long. Shared our feelings, ambitions, hopes for the future.  
  
  
  
Those were fun times, Youngjae-ya.  
  
  
  
It was so much easier back when I didn’t know anything. When nights were just moments when the sun went to sleep for a while.  
  
  
  
Now nights are so much more.  
  
  
  
Nights are the only time I am all alone now. Because during these cool nights, your Diary is the only thing that keeps me company. I’m scared of nights now, Youngjae-ya.  
  
  
  
I’m tired of reading and rereading your feelings now. And I feel sorry every time I finish. Every word you wrote evokes guilt in me and I hate it.  
  
  
  
Why did you have to fall in love with me, Jae? Why did you have to leave?  
  
  
  
Why couldn’t we just forget everything?  
  
  
  
I miss you, Jae. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to keeping apologising because my apology loses its value every time I offer it to you. But I don’t think I could ever stop apologising.  
  
  
  
At least let me know you’ve read my apologies, Jae. Anything. Please.

I love you,  
Daehyun


	4. The 138th Letter

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

September 2, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,

Mrs. Yoo (actually, I’m just going to call her Misoo from now on. We’re no longer her students after all.) wanted me to tell you to eat healthy and that she misses our crazy banter. She’s taken a leave from school ever since she found out she is pregnant. Youngwon  is literally glowing more than her, you know - he’ll make a good father, I’m sure of it.

 

They always talk about you. Keep telling me how many gifts you’ve already bought for their unborn baby. How many times you call them just to talk to Misoo because you want the baby to know that you’re its uncle and so its able to recognise you when you meet him or her. I heard you even send their baby letters - you do know it’s unborn and can’t read yet, right?

 

I can tell how excited you are. You’re probably giddy and giggling in your sleep in anticipation of your future niece or nephew.

 

It gives me solace in knowing that you’re happy. I feel content.

 

But, Jae… are you still hurting? Why won’t you reply to me? I don’t understand what I need to do to get you to talk to me.

 

What am I doing wrong, Jae?What will make you come back?

 

Is it really that hard to send me a single sentence of “I’m okay. I forgive you.”? Either that or you just don’t want to forgive me yet.

 

And that just makes me feel worse, Jae. Did I hurt you that bad?

 

But, I won’t stop apologising and I won’t give up hoping you’ll come back.

 

I’m waiting, Jae.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

* * *

 

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

October 16, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,

Fuck you.

 

Seriously. Go fuck yourself! You asshole!

 

Who the fuck do you think you are!?

Who the fucking hell gave you right to just do as you please!?

 

You really only want me to keep begging you, huh? That’s all you want me to fucking do for the rest of my pitiful life, HUH!? You bastard!

 

You think you’re so cool! You think you did me a favour by going away!? What do you think of yourself!?

 

Did I fucking ask you to pity me!? Did I ask your shit ass to leave!? DID I EVER SAY I WANTED YOU GONE!?

 

NO! I NEVER DID!

 

I never asked you to go away! I never asked you to stop talking to me! I never asked you to hide your feelings! I NEVER ASKED YOU TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ME!

 

THEN WHY!?

 

WHY DO YOU GET TO BE THE VICTIM AND RUN AWAY WHILE I’M LEFT HERE BLAMING MYSELF!?

 

WHY DO YOU GET TO HAVE YOUR SAY AND LEAVE WHILE I’M STUCK TALKING TO LETTERS THAT NEVER GIVE ME THE REPLY I NEED!?

 

WHY DO YOU GET TO BE THE GOOD GUY WHILE I’M HERE BEATING MYSELF ABOUT BREAKING YOUR HEART!?

 

You’re an ass! Fucking go fuck yourself!

 

I hate you! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO MUCH I COULD KILL YOU IF I SAW YOU NOW!

 

HOW COULD YOU NOT REPLY?!

 

WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU NOT REPLY!?

 

IS THIS YOUR WAY OF GETTING BACK AT ME!?

 

FOR WHAT!?

 

WHAT HAVE I DONE!?

 

Not loving you? Is that my crime!? Is that why you’re treating me like a sinner!?

 

DO YOU REALLY NEED MY PITY!? IS THAT WHAT YOU’VE STOOPED TO!?

 

I hate you, Yoo Youngjae.

 

I hate you with every single atom in my body!

 

I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE, YOU ASS!

 

FUCKING KILL YOURSELF!

…

…

…

 

Die. Just… just die.

…

…

…

You bastard.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

* * *

 

22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do

 

October 17, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,

Last night, I had drunk myself crazy. No particular reason really. Just one of those days, you know?

 

There’s not much I remember, but I remember writing to you. I also remember stumbling over the post office Dropbox and posting the letter.

 

It was too late at night so I doubt anyone saw me. Then again, the post office is always open so even if they did, they wouldn’t do anything about it. After all, you and I have mailed so many anonymous letters to people in the middle of the night, right? (It was always funny watching people react to those mysterious letters).

 

I’m not sure what I wrote last night, Jaejae. My memory is quite fuzzy. I think I remember some things though…

 

Please don’t read that letter, Youngjae-ya. Just… don’t read it.

 

I was out of my mind last night. I know you won’t read it if I ask you not to. So just don’t.

 

I’ll tell you what I wanted to ask in that letter here.

 

…

 

Why don’t you reply to me?

 

Why did you leave, Jae? Why did you run away like tyhis?

 

Am I really the bad guy? Am I really supposed to keep apologising to you? Is this what you want?

 

That’s not like you, Youngjae-ya. You’re not like that.

 

I know my apologies only make you cringe. I know my apologies only make you feel all the more confident about your decision to leave. I know my apologies are not what you want from me.

 

You don’t need my acknowledgment of your feelings. You don’t need my awe towards your love for me. You don’t want me to tell you that I feel proud that you love me. I know that’s not what you want, Jae!

 

But I literally have nothing more to offer, Youngjae-ya. What do you want from me?

 

What should I do to have you back here? What should I do to make you stay?

 

How can we go back to being friends, Youngjae-ya?

 

I miss you, Youngjae. I miss you so much that no amount of alcohol can erase your image from my memory.

 

I am drowning myself in all the soju I can get hold of, but I’m not in the least bit inebriated. I can still feel my own tears roll down my face because I’m scared I’ve lost you forever.

 

Please, Youngjae. I don’t know what I want anymore. But… please.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

 


	5. The 169th Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to keep in mind. Right now in the story:  
> Jongup is still dating Hana, which means it's before he told Junhong about The Diary. Whether or not Jongup already has the Diary, will be revealed later into the story.

The letters have never been opened before.

 

That’s what Junhong deduces when sees that they’ve been hot glued with an emblem on the envelope. He had imagined the envelopes to be opened and read. But they are glued shut. Clearly no one has ever opened them.

 

Either that, or they were opened and read, only to be sealed back again. He can’t conjure up why anyone would do that, but it’s a possibility that he can’t afford to strike off.

 

He’s boarding the train back to Seoul and there’s a separate suitcase filled with, what he counted as, a total of two hundred and eighty seven letters address to _Yoo Youngjae._  

He’s heavily confused and really out of it. The pain of losing his beloved Grandpa, when coupled with the discovery of a secret stash of Letters in his grandfather’s cupboard, is giving him a serious migraine. He can’t wait to just get into a buggy and sleep the headache off.

 

Waving at his mother with a heavy heart he smiles bittersweetly reminding her to “take care of Grandma, Mom. And call me if anything’s wrong.” When his mother nods with a broken smile, he holds her hands in his own and shakes them repeating himself. “Do call me, Mom. Please, don’t hide anything from me just because you think I’m too busy, okay?”

 

The woman brings up a hand to caress his face and places a quick kiss to his cheeks as the train’s engine starts to come live. “Remember to eat your vitamins. And don’t worry me and Grandma. I’ll call if something happens.”

 

“Alright then. Step back a little now” Junhong cautions his mother as the train starts to pick up the pace. He’s at the old train station in their town that still runs the olden style trains that take forever to start. His mother had asked him why he wouldn’t just take the KTX but Junhong didn’t want to tell her that it’s because he wants to be alone a little longer. Instead he’d told her that he’d missed the reservations for KTX and that morning trains were always too full to get a ticket on the spot.

 

“Bring Jongup around next time you come, Bunhongie!” His mother yells at him as she steps back and the train gains momentum. “Your Grandpa would’ve wanted him here, you know?”

 

Of course Junhong knows. He knows very well just how fond his friend and his Grandpa were of each other. And he knows it’s wrong to not have told him about his grandfather passing away, but Junhong couldn’t bring himself to. Jongup was set to go on a friend’s wedding with Hana the day his Grandpa had been admitted to the ICU.

 

Call him selfish but he just didn’t think he could watch Jongup prioritize his girlfriend, Hana, over his grandfather. Whatever little chances of that happening there were.

 

“I will!” He yells back, waving a final goodbye, and stepping back into the train.

 

*****

  
22-456 Apdong Road,  
  
Suwon, Gyeonggi-do  
  
  
  
November 17, 1967

Dear Youngjae,

We had career counsellors roaming through classrooms today. It’s senior year after all. They asked us all those fabled questions that we heard about. _What do you see yourself doing in the future? What are likes? Dislikes? Any universities in mind?_ And the likes.

 

I said I wanted to be an officer. Or a lawyer. Or anyone who fights for justice really. Then again, you already knew I would say that.

 

While answering some of the questions, I thought about what you would’ve said. Teacher, for sure. Kindergarten Teacher, if we’re being precise. You’ve always loved kids.

 

I guess where you’re at now, that’s one part of the job description fulfilled. I heard you’re serving your Seminary at a church that houses orphans. You’re probably giggling and hopping on your feet all the time. Or maybe you’ve subdued into a more mature role of a Priest-In-Training?

 

I wish I could hear it from you, Jae. Whatever I know of you these days is thanks to your brother. Youngwon is a great friend.

 

I like to think you’re enjoying yourself though. Ha! Imagine you in a priest’s apprentice uniform.

 

You could pull it off, though.

 

…

 

I’ve applied for a fast track course at KNPU in Seoul. I’m waiting for my acceptance letter. My father was so happy when he heard I’d applied. I think it’s the first time he smiled at me in a long, long time.

 

I’ll see you there, Youngjae-ya.

I’ll see you when I come to Seoul.

 

I love you,

Daehyun


	6. The 204th Letter

22-456 Apdong Road,  
  
Suwon, Gyeonggi-do  
  
  
  
November 30, 1967  
  


Dear Youngjae,

I got the acceptance letter! My father was so elated he hugged me.

 

HE HUGGED ME, Jae!

 

I missed you when he let go to pat my head.

 

If you were here, I’d run over to your home and scream it at you. I would’ve jumped on your bed, forgetting about your father hating me, and I would laugh like a maniac.

 

I would cry, Jae. I would have hugged you and cried my heart out.

 

But you’re not here, Jae. And I’m not happy.

 

If you were here, I would’ve never stopped smiling about my father hugging me after almost ten years of snide remarks and glares.

 

But you not here. So my happiness, seems pitiful and nonexistent.

 

I’d never known a person could be so important. I’d never known you were so important, Jae.

 

I never knew that I couldn’t even enjoy my happiness without you here to share it with me.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

* * *

 

The letter sits open on his lap as Junhong stares out the window. He’s on the third letter. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the letters were in fact numbered and went in a chronological order. What does take a genius to figure is why his grandfather has these letters in the first place.

 

A boy named Daehyun had written letters to a boy named Youngjae almost fifty years ago.

 

And having read just the first three gives Junhong enough insight to know that everything was wrong with their relationship. What he doesn’t understand is what do these two boys have anything to do with his Grandpa.

 

He contemplates calling up his mother for questions. She sure sounded like she knew her father’s great secret, but something compels him to just read on. He’s not too sure about his intuition to continue reading, but his gut has never been wrong before. So, despite being unsure, he closes the third letter and puts it back into the envelope before pulling the next one out.

 

Just before he opens the fourth letter though, something crashes into his semblance.

 

A boy named Daehyun. And a boy named Youngjae.

 

How could he have not realised!

 

Pulling out his phone, he phones his mother without missing a beat. He needs to confirm something. Something about his grandfather.

 

The line goes through and his mother’s concerned voice filters through the receiver. “Junhong-ah? What’s wrong?” She sounds like she was abruptly woken up and but her voice has a hint of alertness in it.

 

He knows it’s a horrible time to call the woman. It’s probably close to midnight and his mother is a worrier. But he needs answers. He’s always been a little too impatient after all.

 

“Mom!” His voice shows urgency. “M- Mom! I need to ask you something.”

 

His heart is thumping wildly in his chest and even waiting for a reply from his mother seems impossibly torturous but he needs her to be completely awake to answer him. He can’t have her replying to him with sleep doused answers.

 

It takes a while for the woman to speak. A long while that Junhong feels drags on. His mother’s breathing is the only sound in the quiet buggy and it bothers him. Junhong knows she’s fully awake now but the fact that she’s not responding has his palms clammy and brow wet in worry.

 

“You read the letters, didn’t you?”

 

Somehow, he’d known she would ask him that. So when he replies, his voice is oddly steady and his heart has calmed down to just a violent thud against his ribcage.

 

“Grandpa’s name was…” he trails off. Junhong is not exactly at a loss for words. He’s just extremely overwhelmed with things he wants to say and ask at the same time. When his mother doesn’t make to complete his sentence, he licks his lips nervously and speaks again, “these letters, Mom. These are Grandpa’s -”

 

His mother cuts him off mid query, her voice softer around the edges as understands well what concerns him. “You’re grandfather” she begins, heaving a sigh. Junhong can feel the hesitance in her voice as she continues, “he was a great man, Junhong. But even the greatest of men are not always perfect.”

 

Her words make the biles in his stomach churn. It’s true, Junhong’s grandfather was a great man. He’d always looked up to him, especially after the untimely death of his father at an early age. His Grandpa was a man of great morals and Junhong didn’t think the man could ever do wrong.

 

But looking at all letters in the suitcase sitting at his feet. Two hundred and eighty seven of them. All unanswered and every single one of them bearing smudged off lettering caused by tears of the boy who’d written them begging for a reply. Not a single letter answered. Junhong feels disgusted.

 

He doesn’t understand how his grandfather, his Grandpa, could’ve been so brutal and heartless.

 

“There are two hundred and eighty seven unanswered letters in here, Mom.” he reminds her with a tightness to his tone. His mother can feel his anger wafting through the phone call. “Can you even imagine how he must’ve felt during all that time, writing to someone who never responded?”

 

She doesn’t answer for a while and he thinks he’s made his point. Taking her silence as a guilty acknowledgment, he's about to hang up when she stops him.

 

“The last letter in that suitcase…” she sounds scared and Junhong hates himself to making her feel that way. But he’s just angry. At not only his Grandpa but at everyone who knew of this. “Your grandfather sent him a reply.”

 

His face turns to stone as the words settle into his mind. His voice is stern when he speaks. “He stopped after that, didn’t he?”

 

He doesn’t receive a reply and soon she hangs up. Reminding him to try and understand her father instead. And though silence is usually an affirmative, he knows that’s not the case here.

 

He knows that two hundred and eighty six is not where the numbers stop.

* * *

 

22-456 Apdong Road,  
Suwon, Gyeonggi-do  
  
  
December 22, 1967  
  


 

Dear Youngjae,

Himchan knows.

 

Did he always know? Did you tell him? Or did he figure it out himself?

 

Did you know that he knew?

 

We were out having drinks today. I’m leaving for Seoul next week so Yongguk had suggested a farewell party. Youngwon had offered to pay. One too many drinks and your brother and cousin were dead to the world.

 

Himchan told me then.

 

He asked me about you. And when I told him I never hear from you anymore, his face said it all. Understanding and sorrow shone in his eyes, Jae.

 

Since when has he known? Was I the only one oblivious?

 

Who else knows?

 

He says that I shouldn’t blame myself. That you leaving had nothing to do with me. But it’s so easy to see through him. I can tell when he’s lying.

 

According to him, you needed the time. He said you needed to go away so you could figure out your feelings.

 

I don’t believe that.

 

I know you went away because you thought I pitied you. You thought I would never be able to see you the same way again and you decided that that’s now how you want things to be.

 

I know you, Jae.

 

But you don’t know me. It took me Forty-Six unanswered letters to realise that you don’t know me like I know you.

 

You think my feelings for you are just one dimensional. That I can’t feel anything but one way. That’s not how things are, Jae.

 

I need you to understand this.

 

I love you. I really do. And yes, I can’t promise the same kind of love as you want from me. But I don’t want to lose you either.

 

I’m selfish, Youngjae. And I take pride in that. Because it’s not fair for you to dictate how Our relationship is governed. It’s a mutual choice.

 

Just because you want to let go doesn’t mean I can’t hold on.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

  
  
  
  
  



	7. The 212th Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: the address on top of the letters is Daehyun’s address, not Youngjae’s.

356-71 Daehakro,  
Jongno-gu, Seoul  
  
December 30, 1967

 

Dear Youngjae,  
  
I never realised how essential stars could be for a good night’s sleep. I rarely ever looked up at the sky to gaze into the galaxies we are offered. Usually, I sleep with the curtains pulled open but with my back to the window. And the darkness that fills the room, is often enough to let me be able to see just enough of my hands when I reach for water in the middle of the night.  
  
The darkness in Seoul is different, Youngjae-yah.  
  
For one, it’s not enough. In the middle of the night, when I wake up to drink water, I can see more than just my hand. I can see the littered floor of the goshiwon I’m living in. The kaleidoscopic array of bright lights dancing on the walls of my dorm from a pub’s store light, still beaming bright at even four in the morning. And when I look out the window, because I’m aware enough to do so, I can see people walking the streets.  
  
And that doesn’t help me sleep anymore than the loneliness of this place would have. I keep trying to see your face in the unknown faces.  
  
I’ve sent a letter to Youngwon asking him to send me your address. He told me you moved to a monastery close to Daehakro. This letter, I’ll send to Youngwon. He’ll post it for me.  
  
Yongguk says he’s visited you a couple times already. He’s looking for boarding here too; he’s starting his semester next month. I offered him a stay in my room until he finds his living.  
  
I don’t mind if he continues to stay with me until he graduates too, actually. But I’m not sure if I want to tell him about us or keep it a secret yet…  
  
I don’t want you to be a dirty secret though…  
  
I might not be able to send in a letter for a week, Jae. Just until Yongguk settles down. Once he gets busy, I’ll write again.  
  
I promise.  


I love you,  
  
Daehyun

*****

Junhong’s lips go dry when he see Jongup at the train station. Coffee mug in hand and sweater paws pulled over his nails. A gummy smile gracing his lips.  
  
He’s scared.  
  
Because, Jongup is bound to ask him about his sudden trip to Busan in the middle of the night and he’s not sure how to break the news of his grandfather passing away to the other boy.  
  
“You’re finally back, huh brat?” Jongup snickers patting his shoulders and shoving the cocoa in his hand.  
  
Junhong simply ducks his head into Jongup’s embrace the moment the boy gets close enough. Tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, he misses his grandfather. Jongup’s arms, so warm and welcoming around him, make the him miss his Grandpa all the more.  
  
And as he pulls back, braving his heart to finally tell Jongup about his Grandpa’s death, a memory filters into his mind.  
  
_Flashback_  
_“Bunhongie-ya” Jongup exclaims as his tiny fingers hold on to the pencil in his hand. “I’ll dwaw you a pictuwe. You colow it, kay?” The five year old lisps, watching the four year old next to him, stare excitedly_   _at the portrait he’s sketching._  
  
_“That’s a very nice picture, Jongup-ah” an old man chuckles, watching Jongup scribble some ambiguous figures onto the paper. “What are you making exactly?”_  
  
Jongup wipes the snot that’s falling relentlessly from his nose - he has a cold, you see - and turns to the man with a sugary grin. But Junhong cuts short whatever Jongup was going to say, and jumps in with his own explanation.  
  
“He’s drawing you, Grandpa!” The boy is missing his two front teeth and his eyes are big enough that they don’t disappear even when he smiles. “I asked him to draw you!”  
  
Once again the old man chuckles patting the two boys on their backs. His hearty laughter filling the room. “Well!” He declares as the two boys continue on to pour their heart and soul into the artwork. “Once you two are done, we’ll pin it on the fridge and then I’ll take you both to get some ice cream!”  
  
Junhong’s excited cheer sounds close to a pterodactyl’s screech, but both Jongup and his Grandpa are immune to it by now. The younger boy presses his cheek against his grandfather’s knee and pouts unintentionally, as he says, “can we also go to ‘Ddeok Ajusshi’s’ store, please?”  
  
_Guffawing at the boy’s attempt at being cute (not that he wasn’t cute or anything. Junhong is always cute as a button for his Grandpa) Grandpa ruffles the boy’s hair, nodding fervently. “We definitely can!” He turns to Jongup, who is still invested in his portrait, and Grandpa can make out his trademark smile that Jongup incorporated into the sketch. “What about you, Jongup?” The old man cards his fingers through Jongup’s hair. “Where do you wanna go once we’re done here?”_  
  
Jongup doesn’t reply back immediately, and anyone else would’ve frowned, but Grandpa knows what Jongup’s like when he’s concentrating. He waits for the boy to finish his sketch and pass it on to an elated Junhong. When Jongup turns to him, he bites his lips in contemplation before speaking, “can we go to the post office, Gwandpa?”  
  
The man falters at his words and his smile gets diminished only for a second before he’s smiling again. “Sure we can” He whispers to the boy, flicking his nose goodnaturedly. “Do you wanna tell me why?”  
  
Jongup sends a wary glance towards Junhong and leans in close to Grandpa, gesturing him to bring his ear closer. The old man snickers and pulls the boy up and on his lap, shushing him as they watch Junhong colouring the picture, oblivious to their conversation.  
  
“Don’t tell Junghong, okay?” Jongup warns before staring at Junhong’s back and then back at his Grandpa. “I wote a lettew to  Junhong by Santa. Junhong wote to him so many days ago. But he didn’t get a weply.”  
  
_Grandpa watches Jongup pout as he says this. Clearly very displeased at the lack of response from the white bearded mythical man. A sharp pain settles into the old man’s guts at the boy’s words though. Suddenly, the face of a Nineteen year old boy waiting for a reply, flashes in front of his eyes and he can’t help it when a tear slides down his face. He’s glad the kids are more or less oblivious to this._  
  
_“I think Junhong’s already forgotten that, Jongup-ah.” The man quietly says to the boy. A placating tone covering his words._  
  
Jongup turns to him with a frown then and shakes his head rather adamantly. “Nuh ah!” He folds his arms across his chest and pouts all the more - if that’s even physically possible at this point - and tells the old man off. “Junhong is still waiting, Gwandpa! I know he is!” The little boy huffs, his lisp making it harder for Grandpa to understand what the boy wants to say because Jongup starts speaking faster when he’s upset. “Santa is just a meanie! He is so stupid! He doesn’t even know that you’we supposed to send back a weply! I hate Santa!”  
  
By now, Junhong has heard him though. And it would’ve been rather comical, seeing Jongup gasp like in those movies and slap his hands on his mouth. But Junhong’s grandfather is just shocked at the amount of displeasure in Jongup’s voice. He knows Jongup as a boy who rarely ever gets angry.  
  
“Santa?” Junhong breaks the silence between them and watches the two others with big doe eyes. His head tilted to the side such that his right cheek looks so much bigger than the left.  
  
Grandpa looks between the two boys and smiles warmly at them before embracing Jongup more tightly in his arms as he says to Junhong. “Jongup here thinks you’re sad that Santa didn’t send you a reply. So he wanted to send you one instead of him, Bunhongie.” Jongup let’s out a shy whine at that and hides himself inside the man’s jacket. “What do you think about that, Bunhongie?”  
  
Junhong takes a while to respond back. Probably trying to make sense of the entire ordeal. But when he does, he gets to his feet and hobbles close to his grandfather, gesturing him to pull him up.  
  
The man picks Junhong up with one hand and sits him on his other lap, that isn’t occupied by Jongup. He watches the two boys silently on his lap with an amused smile hanging on his lips.  
  
_Junhong leans his head on his Grandpa’s chest and bring a hand out to wipe Jongup’s cheeks that have a few tear tracks marring the porcelain skin. “Why are you crying, Uppie?” He mumbles, sounding close to tears himself._  
  
_“Cuz Santa is a Meanie!” Jongup gruffly replies. His eyes stinging from the few tears he’s shed. “I don’t like him!”_  
  
“I don’t like him also!” Junhong declares and reaches across his grandfather’s lap to hug Jongup. “He’s stupid!”  
  
Grandpa watches the two boys embracing on his lap, mirth dancing in his eyes at their apparent dislike for Santa. Cooing at their puffy noses and red cheeks. Chuckling every once in while when either of the boys tell him they’ll never celebrate Christmas or that they’ll attack Santa with snowballs and make him cry too.  
  
And for a second he sees more than just Junhong and Jongup in the two boys. For a second he imagines two different boys embracing each other in his arms.  
Flashback Over  
  
When Junhong pulls back from the hug he’s at a loss for what to say next. Jongup is looking at him with a worried frown and questions on the tip of his tongue. Naturally, Junhong can not lie to the boy. He doesn’t know how to.  
  
“What’s the matter, Bunhongie?” Jongup rubs the name of his neck as he swipes the lone tear that was trailing down his cheeks.  
  
“I’m sorry” Junhong gulps as another onslaught of tears threatens to take over him. “I’m sorry, Jongup.”  
  
Jongup frowns at the boy’s words. As it is, he’s tensed about the boy’s sudden departure in the middle of the semester but Junhong crying as soon as he meets him and then apologising is an ominous sign. Jongup can feel it in his bones that Junhong’s got a bad news.  
  
“Why are you apologising to me?” Jongup mutters. His hands stop rubbing the boy’s neck and simply sit on his shoulder. In a death grip. “What did you do?”  
  
“Grandpa passed away, Jongup” Junhong manages to spill out. Lips trembling and breath wavering. His entire body alit with goosebumps. “Two weeks ago… m-mum called to tell me h- he was in the ICU. T-“ he gulps back the tears that had been locked within his eyes for the past two weeks and shudders a breath before speaking. “They said he didn’t have e- enough time. So, he wanted to m- meet…”  
  
He doesn’t punctuate the sentence because just at that moment he looks up from the ground he’s been staring at to see rage in Jongup’s eyes. His friend has his hands fisted and his entire frame shaking in anger. Jongup is looking terrifyingly cross and Junhong fears continuing.  
  
And when he speaks, Jongup’s voice is grave and calm. Junhong knows that’s never a good sign. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He’s not looking at him but at his feet and that’s another thing that tells the younger boy to not to lie.  
  
A breath of air passes when Junhong speaks. “Y- you were supposed to go to Hana’a sister wedding two days later. I…” He licks his lips, already aware that Jongup might just kill him after hearing the excuse. “I didn’t want to bother…”  
  
At that Jongup looks at him. All the anger bottled into that body scares Junhong and he unconsciously moves away. “Bother? You didn’t want to bother me?” Jongup’s voice is so calm, so menacing, Junhong almost wets himself. He sounds demonically threatening. He’s not even moving, fists clenched as he continues staring at Junhong.  
  
“Jongup -“  
  
“You fucking asshole!” His voice echoes the railway station and Junhong thanks the heavens it’s still four in the morning and very few commuters are at the old train station. The few present do turn and send them weird glances, but Junhong is too paralysed with fear to pay them heed.  
  
“Jongup, you don’t understand-“  
  
“I don’t fucking need to understand!” Jongup cuts him off, strutting towards him and poking him with his index finger. Junhong winces at the intended injury and backs off when Jongup continues hounding at him. “How dare you! HOW DARE YOU!?”  
  
Before Junhong can even react, Jongup has his collars in his hands and he’s punching Junhong right in the face. Maybe it’s because Jongup, despite his petite form, packs a lethal punch. Or maybe it’s because Junhong wasn’t expecting it, Junhong finds himself on the ground with a bloody lip.  
  
He’s about to get up and try to explain himself, when he sees Jongup turning his back to him and leaving.  
  
For once, the younger boy doesn’t have the strength to stop his friend.


	8. The 230th Letter

**_April 06_ **

**_7:00 AM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_Jongup._ **

 

**_7:15 AM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_Jongup, I’m sorry._ **

**_Please try to understand where I’m coming from._ **

 

**_8:19 AM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_I knew Hana wanted to go there with you since forever, I didn’t want to make this hard for you._ **

 

**_8:21 AM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_I was scared, Jongup._ **

**_I was scared you’d force yourself to ditch Hana for me._ **

**_I was scared you’d hate me for making you choose._ **

 

**_9:46 PM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_What if you chose to visit Hana’s wedding instead of accompanying me to meet Grandpa?_ **

**_What if you chose to prioritize her over Me?_ **

**_I was scared of so many things Jongup._ **

 

**_11:51 PM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_I was scared you wouldn’t care, Jongup._ **

**_I was wrong but I was so scared…_ **

 

**_April 07_ **

**_12:08 AM_ **

**_Junhong:_ **

**_Will you really not reply?_ **

 

**_Last seen 14 hours ago_ **

 

A silent prayer escapes his lips as Junhong closes his eyes for the night. He’s not at all sleepy, but he forces himself to at least try.

 

Jongup never fails to reply to him but it’s already been twenty-two hours since their fight.

 

Trying to sleep, however, is a failed tactic Junhong finds out when four hours of constantly shuffling in bed leave him with a sore back but still alive consciousness. He stares at the suitcase in the corner of the room then. It’s the only thing he hasn’t unpacked yet.

 

Heaving a strained sigh, he sits up and edges towards the suitcase, being careful not to let his feet touch the ground. He lies down on his stomach, and opens the bag, pulling out the top mossy letter in the right section. The ones he still hasn’t read yet.

 

*****

356-71 Daehakro,

Jongno-gu, Seoul

  
  
  
January 17, 1968

 

Dear Youngjae,

It’s raining in Seoul right now and I’m stuck inside the goshiwon. Yongguk is sitting next to me and he’s reading this letter over my shoulders.

 

I decided to tell him, Jae. Because you’re not a dirty secret.

 

Our classes start next week and it’s fair to say, I’m excited. Then again, it might be because I haven’t been out of this damn room for more than a couple of hours for the past three months and right now, school sounds fun.

 

Yongguk’s university isn’t too far from my academy so that’s a nice plus. I feel like I’ll fit in just fine.

 

How are you though?

 

I realized, after fifty-seven unanswered letters that maybe the reason you never reply is that I never ask after you.

 

I guess I’m just too selfish, huh? Always wanting to talk about myself.

 

How are you, Jae?

 

Yongguk tells me you’re doing well. You’ve taken a break, I hear? How come? I didn’t ask for more details though.

 

I want you to tell me.

 

Why are you on a break? Are the people there not nice to you? I’d have imagined church people to be kinder. Or maybe the workload is a lot? I mean… I don’t really know what work you do there but I’m sure it must be tiring.

 

Anyway. Yongguk says I’m rambling. He told me he’s going to meet you tomorrow. He offered me to come along, but I don’t want to force it.

 

I told him to not talk about us tomorrow when he meets you. Don’t worry. We won’t talk about it until you want to.

 

,I love you

Daehyun

 

As he closes the letter, a ding echoes around his quiet bedroom and Junhong leaps to his feet to grab his cellphone. He’s praying it’s Jongup.

 

And sure enough, Jongup’s name flashes on the locked screen of his second-hand iPhone.

 

**_April 07_ **

**_02:39AM_ **

**_Jongup:_ **

**_Meet me outside the diner near your apartment._ **

 

**_02:41AM_ **

**_Jongup:_ **

**_Now._ **

 

Needless to say, Junhong jerks away from his bed and runs out the door of his studio apartment faster than light.

 

It doesn’t take more than a couple of hasty footsteps before he’s standing outside the diner that is like a second home to him. Jongup’ is standing near the entrance, his back facing Junhong. The younger boy heaves a sigh of relief before he starts walking.

 

“Jongup” Junhong whispers once he’s close enough. He’s not too sure what he was expecting when he met Jongup. Sure, a part of him was ready to get punched to a pulp. Another part of him was ready for Jongup to sever ties. A teeny tone part was hoping that Jongup would just pass this off in his usual manner and pat his back or something with words of advice.

 

He wasn’t expecting Jongup's eyes to be puffy and red-rimmed. He also wasn’t expecting the elder to shove his hands into his pockets and gesturing towards the junk food restaurant and asking him “you haven’t eaten dinner, have you?”

 

It’s more or less a rhetorical question. Junhong steals his eyes away from the elder and stares at the few employers puttering around in the restaurant attending to the last few customers of the day. Of course, Jongup would know. As it is, a weak “yes” is all Junhong can come up with.

 

The elder of the two boys rolls his eyes and grabs Junhong’s arm, pulling him inside. “Of course you haven’t. You know you did something wrong and you feel guilty for it. So, of course, you skipped dinner.” Jongup mutters under his breath. In the back of his mind, Junhong is aware of the fact that Jongup is telling him this to him just to intensify his guilt, but he doesn’t have it n him to call his friend out on that. So he lets the boy guide him to an empty table somewhere in the middle of the diner. Junhong would’ve preferred a corner table (more private) but beggars can’t be choosers and he’s probably going to be begging Jongup’s forgiveness in a couple of minutes anyway.

 

It doesn’t take too long for the meal to get done, and Jongup is soon in front of him with plates laden with mashed potatoes and gravy. A bowl of tomato soup with croutons next to a coke. And a simple coffee cake, drizzled with chocolate flakes. Seeing the food makes Junhong choke up. Because it’s his standard comfort meal and Jongup knows the order by heart. Down to the croutons and big soup spoon.

 

Eyes glassy, he picks up the spoon and takes a gulp of the piping soup. SNiffling when the warm liquid passes down his throat. He can’t look up at the boy in front of him. “I’m sorry, Jongup.” Junhong manages to whisper, letting his head fall into his chest.

 

Jongup watches Junhong for a while after that. The younger boy continues eating and sniffling every once in a while. And Jongup hates to be dramatic but his heart aches for the boy. “Your soup's probably turned salty and runny by now” he begins. When Junhong looks at him with questioning eyes, Jongup rolls his eyes, grabs a tissue, and wipes off the tears trailing down his friend’s cheeks. “Stop crying into the soup. I’m not buying you another.

 

“I’m really sorry, Jongup” Junhong once again iterates. Desperation apparent in his voice.

 

Jongup heaves a sigh and pulls his hand away, fondling the glass of water in front of him. He doesn’t look Junhong in the eyes when he says, “you know I can’t forgive you right?” He doesn’t have to look to know that Junhong’s lips are trembling with the effort to not cry. “He was my grandpa too, and I loved him just as much as you did. He would’ve wanted to meet me in his last moments.” His own voice turns thick with emotions and Jongup sips some water before he can speak again. “You had no right to take that away from me.”

 

“I was scared” Junhong’s scared whispers echoes loud in the quiet eatery for Jongup.

 

“I can’t forgive you, Junhong. I won't.” Jongup declares almost authoritatively. As Junhong slumps down in despair though, he adds, “but that doesn’t mean I won't forget it.” When Junhong looks up sharply at his words, Jongup smiles and ruffles his hair, taking a bite of the mashed potatoes before continuing. “You’ll always be an exception for me.”

 

*

 

He’s lying in bed, smiling at the goodnight text from Jongup when a thought rams into his cranium and he jolts up from the bed. Junhong rushes to the last opened letter he read and rereads the words etched into the simple paper.

 

As if hit with an epiphany, he recites the name on the letter in wonder. “Yongguk.” Reading it once more is not necessary because Junhong is sure now. And he can’t keep the excitement from his guts. “Gukkie Grandpa…”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, we'll be going back in time to have a look at Daehyun and Youngjae's side of the story, so heads up~~~


	9. The 310th Letter

 

**Seoul 1968**

Daehyun fumbles with the letter in his hand before putting it into an envelope. He glues the back of it with a seal and turns it around to ink the address on the front.

 

Yoo Youngjae

11-3499 Naksan-gil,

Seongbuk-gu, Seoul

 

He looks back at Youngwon’s letter to make sure he got the right address and sticks a stamp to it before getting to his feet.

 

Youngjae had changed churches again, so Daehyun had to wait another week for Youngwon to send him his new address. He’s not too sure why his friend keeps moving so much, but a part of him thinks it might be because of his letters.

 

A larger part of him worries that maybe Youngjae is having a hard time there.

 

As Yongguk exits the shared bathroom, Daehyun gets to his feet and without looking back, speaks over his shoulder as he makes to leave. “I’m going out to post this letter to Jae. Do you need anything?”

 

Yongguk’s reply of “yes, please pick up a brain that doesn’t keep thinking of porn during the finals please” is met with a stony silence and a roll of his eyes. His friend has an addiction that Daehyun believes is all his own fault.

 

Walking down Daehakro early in the morning is always a pleasure for Daehyun. It’s not the bakery with its delicious smell wafting in the air. Or the little kids playing in the sidewalks. It’s not the friendly smiles that are so familiar now even though it’s only been a couple of months since he’s moved there. And it’s certainly not the array of beautiful universities girls that fill the coffee shops and stores every day.

 

It’s fresh air that feels like Suwon early in the morning when the crowd is less and the world is quiet.

 

Daehakro in the morning reminds him of Suwon. Which in turn reminds him of Youngjae.

 

He heaves a sigh before turning right towards the post office. Call him crazy but he’s spending half his earnings from working at the restaurant under his building, just to stay at the goshiwon he is living in now. All because it’s the closet-dwelling near a post office.

 

This particular post office is just a small corner inside a stationary shop. Nothing like the big two-story post office in Suwon where Daehyun had often gone with Youngjae. Carrying Youngwon’s lunch when the elder forgot it at home.

 

He smiles at the memory before pushing the envelope across the table towards the old man. “You always get here before mail pick up, huh Kiddo?” The man smirks before stamping the letter and shoving it into his satchel.

 

“I need these letters to get to their destination as quick as possible, Sir” Daehyun explains to the man. “I can’t have the person I’m sending these to think that I’ve forgotten about him. I can’t have him forget me either.”

 

“Sounds complicated” the old man scoffs, leaning over the table eyeing Daehyun.

 

“Does it?” Daehyun asks, shifting his head to the side to contemplate the old man’s words. “I guess it’s a little complicated.” He relents, smiling cheekily at the man.

 

A deep chuckle issues through the man’s lips and he shakes his head at the boy. “You know the best way to get someone to remember you? The best way to make sure they don’t forget?” The postmaster asks him, a hint of mystery in his tone. A promise of some great knowledge.

 

“What’s the best way?” Daehyun finds himself whispering. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering but it seems to not matter at the moment.

 

“Give them something to remember you by” The old man declares, “and the best thing to give anyone is Love, my boy.”

 

Daehyun stares at the man, the pain suddenly filling his entire being. “That’s the only thing I’m incapable of giving, Sir”.

 

A knowing smile graces the old man’s lips as he gets to his feet and makes his way out of the store and towards his mail truck. Just as he’s about to drive off he looks at Daehyun and mumbles to him so only he can hear.

 

“These Letters you send to that person. These letters that never receive a reply,” He pats Daehyun’s back as he continues, “these are all a little bit of love that you’re sending them every week. Every day sometimes”.

 

“They’re not enough” Daehyun mutters bitterly, looking away from the man’s piercing eyes.

 

“Love is not something you calculate, my boy.” The man gruffly shoves has as if to ingrain his words into Daehyun’s mind. “All the love in the world wouldn’t be of any use if it’s given at the wrong time. You need to give love when a person needs it the most if you want them to remember you. Even what little of it you can manage.”

 

The man soon leaves and when Daehyun’s back to his bedroom, Yongguk has left for his morning class as well. But the words the postman had said to him don’t leave. For a long time, they stay with him.

 

*

 

Youngjae watches the candle flame flicker as he reads the letters he’s received that day. He smiles as he reads about Youngwon moving to Seoul. About his sister in law’s ever-changing cravings and annoying nightly karaoke sessions to “make sure the baby has a good sense of rhythm when he’s born”. He guffaws at the letters sent by Himchan. The elder’s age-old jokes and shenanigans. He’s proud of Yongguk too, for making it into his dream university.

 

It’s a Tuesday, and it’s the day mail gets delivered to the pension he’s living in.

 

And reading those letters make him tear up in longing for a certain boy.

 

Daehyun’s smiles. His voice. His words. The boy’s sheer panic whenever Youngjae was in trouble. Daehyun’s eyes leaking with pain after getting beaten up by his father. His eagerness to meet him. The times spent with him. The good, bad and the worst.

 

He misses every single fraction of the second he’d spent with the boy. The startling realization that the time spent with Daehyun might the smallest time period in his upcoming life, puts everything into perspective. Nineteen years of friendship compared to God knows how many more years of life he has left in his body.

 

He knows Daehyun’s in Seoul and only God would know how hard it is for Youngjae to not just write to Youngwon for an address and just barge into Daehyun’s home. He’s literally on the brink of going crazy thinking about his best friend living not too far from his own dwelling.

 

His mind doesn’t wander for too long though. He doesn’t allow it to. Because that’s not what he had decided for himself when he had come to Seoul.

 

He looks at the few unopened letters lying on his desk and blows out the candle for the night. Moving under the covers and promising himself he’ll read the rest in the morning.

 

Maybe answer a few too.

 

**Seoul 2017**

“Junhongie!” The old man beams at him, opening the door to his home for the boy holding a fruits basket. His mouth curls a little when he sees the basket though and he swoops down to ruffle Junhong’s hair as the boy makes himself comfortable in the man’s home. “Stop trying to be grown up, would you? You don’t need to bring these things to me everytime you come here.”

 

Junhong snickers at the admonishing tone of the old man and sticks his tongue out as he says, “manners, Grandpa Gukkie. Manners.”

 

“Ya! Yoo Junhong!” The old man mock threatens him before stumbling into the sofa right in front of the boy.

 

A calmness engulfs then as Junhong watches Yongguk ask his wife to get some refreshments for Junhong. “How have you been, Grandpa?” Junhong asks after what feels like almost an hour.

 

The man looks at him and smiles forlornly as he leans back into the couch. Tea in hand and a bitter smile on his lips. “Heard about your grandfather.” When Junhong’s smile falters, Yongguk is quick to keep the train of conversation going. “How are you holding up?”

 

“Alright,” Junhong whispers, reaching for the hot chocolate placed in front of him.

 

“When Yongguk heard the news he almost flew to Busan” Yongguk’s wife explains. Setting the cookies on the table and sitting next to the old man. Patting his legs comfortingly, she continues. “We had even booked a flight but they were canceled due to the weather.”

 

Junhong nods at that. He remembers the tumultuous downpour of that day down to the goosebumps on his arm. “I understand. Most people couldn’t make it.”

 

“I heard Yoongi didn’t make it too,” Yongguk asks pointedly. Of course, he’d ask. Junhong had expected him to.

 

The boy lowers his head as a sign of shame and nods mumbling to himself more than to the elder “I never told him.”

 

When Yongguk snorts, Junhong can hear the bitterness in his tone. “He probably beat you to a pulp then, huh?”

 

“Something along those lines, I guess.” Junhong concedes.

 

“He called me to complain about it, you know?” Yongguk tells him, his eyes holding more meaning than words. “You shouldn’t have hidden it from him.”

 

“You’d know all about hiding things, wouldn’t you?” Junhong smiles at the man. The silence amongst them running loud.

 

The man raises his eye at the boy and hums before he speaks, “I think the whole town of Suwon would know a thing or two about hiding things, my boy.”

 

“He thought you were his friend” the boy declares icily. "He trusted you."

 

“Found the letters?” Yongguk inquires. His eyes holding no remorse. He leans back into his chair, biting into his wife’s cookies. “I knew you would someday.”

 

Yongguk’s wife, sensing an oddness lurk into the previously pleasant atmosphere between the men, quirks her eyebrows and smiles at the pair. Turning to her husband and asking him, “should I take my hearing aids out so you boys can get some privacy.”

 

Junhong would like to think her joke worked to somewhat calm the storm brewing in his guts when he sees Yongguk leans towards his wife and kiss her cheek. Pulling back from her, he watches Yongguk pull out the woman’s hearing aids, and turn towards him.

 

“Are you here to give this old man a lecture?” Yongguk asks with a cheeky grin that is an obvious cover for the pain in his eyes.

 

His lips under his teeth, Junhong tres to keep his anger at bay when he bites out, “I can’t believe how cruel you two were. You and Grandpa are people I look up to.”

The old man grimaces at the boy’s tone and it hurts to know that his words are having that effect on the man, but Junhong just feels that it’s unfair. He has no idea why this sudden sense of justice has taken over him, especially for an unknown stranger by the name of Park Daehyun. But it’s a part of him now. The anger bubbling under his skin is all attributed to the feelings of a nineteen-year-old boy from fifty years ago.

 

“Those times didn’t allow for those things, Junhongie.” Yongguk tiredly explains. “If someone wanted to stop falling in love with someone they had to let go of them completely. Cut all contact.” He heaves a heavy sigh as he holds his wife’s hands, who looks completely unperturbed by her current lack of hearing. “You are lucky you were in this generation, in Seoul that too. Back in Suwon, in those days, you couldn’t just randomly start sleeping around and drink away your troubles over a failed relationship. We didn’t even have the liberty to ruin our lives.”

 

“He waited forty years, Gukkie Grandpa. Forty!” Junhong insists with a pained voice. “That’s more than twice the number of years from the age he had started at.”

 

“Youngjae was just as dear a friend mine as Daehyun was, Junhong,” Yongguk exclaims exasperatedly. “And when I was asked to protect him, I was going to protect him no matter what. Even if it meant hurting Daehyun.”

 

“How is that equal love then, Grandpa!?” Junhong howl at the man. He’s aware that he’s going out of line. Even Yongguk’s wife can sense that the air between has soured all the more. “You hurt one friend of yours to protect another. How is that fair?!”

 

Yongguk seems unfazed by the outburst though. He waits for Junhong breathing to calm down somewhat before speaking, “Youngjae was scared, Junhong. Just like you were scared to tell Yoongi. He was more scared than you at that time. A thousand times more.”

 

The words fall heavily on his consciousness as Junhong contemplates the man’s words. Who would understand the fear of losing a friend better than Junhong, after all? “You don’t get to make those decisions, Grandpa. You don’t get to choose a side. You shouldn’t.”

 

“If I could rewind time,” Yongguk begins as tears start to pool into Junhong’s eyes. “I probably would’ve stopped your Grandpa too, Bunhongie.” He lets his words make a home in Junhong’s mind before continuing. “But what’s done is done, Junhong. You can’t change the past. You need to forgive you, grandfather.”

 

“It’s not my sin to pardon.” Junhong weakly mumbles. Looking up from his knees, he matches his glassy-eyed gaze with his grandfather’s friend. “You and I both know who deserves to be given the option of forgiving you all.”

 

“What letter are you on?” Yongguk quietly whispers. Sounding more scared that he would’ve wanted to sound.

 

Junhong gulps before looking away. He trains his gaze upon a cloud out the window and bites his lips because he’s tired of crying over some guy from fifty years ago. “Seventy-eight.”

 

Yongguk heaves another deep sigh at the number and Junhong watches him wipe his eye from the corner of his own. “You’ve got a long way to go.”

 

“I had Mom send me the rest of them,” Junhong adds, gulping noisily because his breath is shuddering upon his lips. “She says it’ll take some time before all of them get here.”

 

A while passes between before Yongguk finally lets a tear fall and mutters, “I’m sorry, Junhong.”

 

*

 

By the time Junhong trudges into his studio apartment, he hates himself. Remember his Gukkie Grandpa crying out for his friend, makes goosebumps ride up the boy’s arms and he wonders if it was the right decision to go and talk to him about this.

 

He stares at the suitcase carrying those two hundred and eighty-seven letters he’d brought along with him from his grandfather’s home in Busan.

 

He’s not sure what compels him to do so, but he shoots a call to Yoongi to ask him to meet him out at the playground they often played at. Junhong leaves the flat as soon as Yoongi agrees to meet.

 

He doesn’t even realize that it’s eleven on a school night when he’s out of the door.

 

*****

356-71 Daehakro,  
Jongro-gu, Seoul  
  
April 6th, 1968

 

Dear Youngjae,

In my previous letter, I told you about that little bakery near my goshiwon, where I had found a kitten hiding under the shingles during the rain. Today, I met the owner of the bakery. Her name is Mrs. Lee.

 

She’s the sweetest in the world, Jae.

 

Ever since I’ve met her, she’s been giving me rice cakes and red bean buns, and all kinds of treats every day I pass her bakery. She says I remind her of her son. He died during a strike. Something about equal rights for countrymen or something.

 

She reminds me of my own Mum too.

 

You remember her, right? She used to adore you. At some level, I used to feel that she loved you more. Maybe she did.

 

It’s odd, though. You would’ve thought I’d hate you for taking the attention away from me but I didn’t, Jae. I never resented you.

 

It’s funny really. She was the only person in my family who really loved me and I still shared that love with you. I think it was partly because you were the only one, beside me, who wasn’t scared of her. I think that’s why Dad loved you so much too.

 

When you met her with that boxy smile of yours, completely free and unnerved, I think Dad forgave himself for that fire in our home when I was still a baby. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Dad resented me because of what happened to Mum too. She would’ve still been beautiful had she not raced in to save me.

 

I’m thankful to you for that, Jae. Dad is too, I know he is. He sends you rice cakes every month after all, doesn’t he? He hasn’t even sent me a letter yet and it’s been more than four months since I’ve come here.

 

Mum is thankful too, Jae. She’s probably looking out for you more than she is for me.

 

I hope she is.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 


	10. The 469th Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that 1967 is when Youngjae was still in Suwon. And 1968 is when he's in Seoul.

356-71 Daehakro,  
Jongro-gu, Seoul  
  
September 12th, 1968

Dear Youngjae,

 

There’s a girl in my academy…

 

I’m not sure where I was going with when I started this letter but I just felt like telling you.

 

About her…

 

It’s not like there aren’t in girls in the academy, but she’s different, Jae.

 

Tiny as Thumbelina, she has such a hard time during physicals. Always falling in her face and getting yelled at for showing weakness during drills. She’s always mocked by our classmates for being so unfitting at the academy. One look and you could tell she stumbled upon the wrong side of the career description. She should’ve been an office worker. Fieldwork is just not for her.

 

But that’s not what makes her different, Youngjae.

 

What makes her different is that during break time, even though her legs are about to give way due to exhaustion, she runs to sit beside this one particular girl. She tries her hardest to show a strong front. Her hands might shake during target practice, but she literally trembles every time the other pats her head, or even smiles at her.

 

And I might be biased in my choices. It might be guilt towards you. I don’t know what it is, but my heart goes out to her.

 

She’s so in love, Youngjae-yah. And it’s so hard to watch her follow the elder girl like a puppy with its tail between its legs. And what makes it worse is the other girl adores her. She’s kind and accepting and lovely. She’s the best friend you could ask for but she’s so Goddamn oblivious.

 

It just hurts to watch that little girl, Jae. Literally fighting with herself to be with the girl she fell in love with.

 

And it makes me wonder, Jae…

 

What if that had been you? What if I had never found out? What if you’d tagged along with me and we had been together still?

 

I wouldn’t wish that kind of life to anyone…

 

Not even if it meant having you here by my side.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

*****

**Seoul 2017**

 

“How you doing today?” Jongup leans over the counter and gestures at Junhong to grab his attention. He’s at the coffee shop the boy works in and watches him with questioning eyes as Junhong looks highly unperturbed.

 

Junhong raises his eyes in question as he walks over to the coffee machine in the back and starts making Jongup’s order. “What do you mean? What happened to me?”  
  
Jongup rolls his eyes as he winces back, “you weren't in the best of moods yesterday. Did you get back home well last night?”  


At the elder’s words, Junhong furrows his eyes again. He’d read the two hundred and fifth letter a couple of days ago and has been in a sour mood ever since. Of course, he can’t tell Jongup that. Though, he could if he wanted to. But he’s not sure whether he does.

 

He doesn't respond back as he makes the drink. Placing it on a tissue paper when he gets back, biting his lips as he nods with a small smile. “It wasn't much. And yes. I, obviously, did get back home safe, Uppie.”  
   
He's lying. Jongup is so sure about it, he could swear his entire fortune over it.  
  
Letting a frown filter onto his forehead, Jongup huffs a sigh and groans out to the boy. “What is it? I wasn't going to keep pestering you about it. But I'm worried about you. You're never distressed about anything for so long. It's been four days now!”  
   
Junhong sighs as he pushes a few buttons on the till machine and starts counting bills. It's so obvious he's trying to avoid eye contact. But he’s not ready to tell yet. He’s not sure he wants to even.   
  
The elder boy watches in apparent dissatisfaction and Junhong continues to count bills here's probably counted several times before already. Watching the way the boy tries to keep his emotions in. How he bites his lips every other second. How his Adam's apple quivers. Jongup can feel anger bubbling in his gut but he doesn't know why.  
  
“It's nothing, Uppie. You don't need to worry about it.” In an afterthought, he adds, without ever looking up from the bills in hand, “it's a Friday. What are you doing here even?”  
  
Just as Jongup is about to give a reply, a hand lands on his shoulders and Jongup shuts up in favor of looking at the person behind him.   
  
“Hey there, Jongup!” Hana, Jongup’s girlfriend, pleasantly grins, latching onto his arm in a death grip. She then turns her attention towards Junhong and waves a greeting in his direction too. “Junhongie.”  
  
As if a chameleon changing its colors, Junhong’s face loses all the colors in it and he goes pale white. Then slowly, like blood seeping into a white pristine cloth, his ears start turning red, lips curling unpleasantly into a fake smile. Hands fisting, almost crumbling the notes in his hand. “Hey, Hana.” His voice clipped.

 

It would be a lie if Junhong ever said he liked the woman in the first place. His apparent dislike for her is hidden from no one - not even Jongup. But most of the time, Junhong doesn’t have such a hard time to mask his dislike. Today though, even her name sounds like chalkboards being scratched.

 

 _It’s just a dumb letter, Junhong._ He reminds himself as he watches Hana beam at him then turn to Jongup and grab his chin turning his face to look at her.  _She’s not the same person. Relax!_

 

He watches her pout, bile rising to his stomach at the thought of the last letter he’d read, her lips jutting out in the most delectable manner as she bats her eyes at Jongup, “Come on, babe. We have a movie to catch.”  
  
And as she's pulling him away and out the door of the little cafe, Junhong can’t help but imagine a pair of eighteen-year-old boys and a girl in between them. Can’t help wincing at the imagery of a barely adult Daehyun being pulled away from a barely adult Youngjae.

Their hands clasped together, being pulled off of each other’s as a teenage Hana pulls them away from each other.

And he’s not sure what it is he feels. It’s like being stabbed in the heart. He’s never been stabbed, of course, but he feels like that’s how it must feel, at least.

As tears start to pool in his eyes, lips trembling, his heartaches and he feels compelled to just walk up to the pair and snatch Jongup's hand away from hers.The way Jongup keeps turning back as he’s being pulled away is so much more poignant. 

He can’t help but see Daehyun’s eyes reflected back at him in Jongup’s.

  
**Suwon 1967**

 

“You should stop and think about this, Jae” Youngwon gently whispers to the boy who’s busy packing up his suitcase with a clenched jaw.

Youngjae scoffs at his brother’s words. No bite his gestures, just bitterness. “What’s there to think about, Wonnie?” His tone uncaring.

The elder of the two bites his lips as he brings out a hand to ruffle through Youngjae’s hair. Effectively stopping Youngjae’s hands from messily folding his clothes into his luggage. The younger boy shudders under the touch and turns back into his brother’s embrace. Eyes wet and lips mumbling apologies. He weeps into his brothers embrace and Youngwon holds him with purpose. As if shielding him from oncoming bullets.  


“Don’t make rash decisions, Jae” Youngwon reminds him. Patting the boy’s hair once he’s calmed down enough to make sense of what’s being said to him. “This isn’t something you can back out of. This is a life choice. It’ll change everything you want for yourself in the future.”

 

When Youngjae pulls back, his eyes look like he’s been punched and his lips are plumper than Youngwon’s. “I can’t stay here, Youngwon.” Biting his lips and closing his eyes, he inhales heavily. “It’s not just Daehyun, it’s Father too. I can’t afford to have him lose another son.”

 

Youngwon winces at the younger boy’s words. He knows Youngjae doesn’t mean to make it sound like an accusation, but can’t help but feel attacked by the implication. Him leaving home two years ago had driven his father into the ICU. Him forsaking the religion his father tried to install into his blood, had broken his father beyond repair. He understands completely what Youngjae wants to convey but he can’t bring himself to agree with the boy. “You don’t owe it to him, Youngjae. You don’t have to do this.”

 

As if it pains to even listen to him, Youngjae sobs into his hands. Holding his face and shoulders shaking with an effort. “I just can’t.”

 

“You think going away will let you forget Daehyun?” The elder one whispers, rubbing soft circles into the boy’s back.

 

Youngjae doesn’t reply. His nose pressed into his brother’s chest. Youngwon doesn’t prod him either. It wasn’t a question he expected an answer to, anyway. It was more of reminder.

 

They don’t keep track of how long they stay in each other’s embrace. Letting the night quell their worries for the shortest while. As sleep seeps into his consciousness, Youngjae finds himself muttering, “I wonder what sins Father must’ve committed in his past life, Wonnie.” He heaves a sigh and chuckles, snuggling closer to his brother. “For one of his sons to turn into an atheist and the other to be gay.”

 

Youngwon is well aware that Youngjae is waiting for him to disapprove of his statement. He knows Youngjae is silently begging him to say something along the lines of  _‘don’t think that way’_ ,  _‘you’re not a punishment’_ ,  _‘you’re not a disappointment’_  or even something noncommittal like  _‘it's okay’_ ,  _‘it’s fine’_.

 

But he can’t bring himself to spill the words out. He can’t bring himself to lie to Youngjae. He knows it’s vile and he’s the last person that deserves to judge, what with his actions in the past. But even he can’t bring himself to fully support his brother’s sexuality.

 

That night, he sleeps in Youngjae’s room. And even though his little brother never voices out his despair, he stays up knowing that he’s also one of the reasons, Youngjae wants to leave.

 

**Seoul 2017**

 

Junhong eyes his cellphone blinking for the third time that night but he chooses to ignore it. It’s Hana’s birthday and Jongup had expected Junhong to come over, but he’s so not in the mood. He knows it’s just a coincidence, but even her name makes goosebumps rise all over his body. He’ll just have to make an excuse for a late night assignment to Jongup.

 

Instead, he chooses to stare at the suitcases sitting ideally in his tiny living room. Four huge suitcases, the same size as the first one, all filled to the brim with letters. He can’t even fathom how many letters and emotions sit desperately within their confines, but if he had to make a guess, he’d say it’s more than four and three zeroes. An average of seven to eight letters per month.

 

Though, he could be wrong. He’s seen the gap between the dates starting to increase. Instead of the initial ten letters per months, he’s seen Daehyun’s letters have reduced to five per month. Sometimes even three. But having reached three hundred and forty letters by now, he knows that it must’ve taken some time for Daehyun to stop.

 

Sitting down crossed legged on the ground next to the second suitcase, that he’d opened as soon as it had arrived, Junhong trails his fingers along the rims of some of the letters. The envelope is always the same marble color; a regular C6 size glued with a small seal at the back. He heaves a sigh and pulls out the next envelope before closing his eyes and letting his head drop back against the couch behind him.

 

There’s a certain scent about the envelopes, one which he feels is all too familiar but can’t put a finger on. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to jog his memory for a reason. And sure enough, a memory makes its way in front of his eyes.

 

_Flashback_

_A freshly ten-year-old Junhong waits impatiently for the old man to open of his bakery. Taping his feet restlessly. “Come on, Deok Ajusshi!” he wails, waving his hands about; his cheeks bouncing as he screams._

 

_The old man in front of him chuckles, shaking his head, and ruffles his hair before pushing open the bakery. He chortles happily when Junhong moves quickly and ducks past him into the bakery. Sighing deeply as he inhales the smell of bakery supplies._

 

_The little boy makes a beeline for the drinks section and doesn’t even ask before pulling out a bottle of banana milk for himself. As he’s walking towards the counter, the old man’s eyes twinkle as he asks Junhong, “how come you’re here so early, boy? And alone too?”_

 

_At the question, the old man watches Junhong’s expression turns sour and the kid’s lips start to wobble. “I had a fight with Grandpa” he whispers, letting his head fall into his chest._

 

_“What about?” the man asks, turning around to open the kitchen. His employees will there in about twenty minutes and he wants to make sure the kitchen is open and clean by then for them to start baking if they want to start on time. “You two usually get along so well, don’t you?”_

 

_Junhong huffs and crosses his arms over his chest - or tries to at least, he’s still too chubby to fully wrap his arms around his body. Earning a chuckle from the baker, Junhong slumps in his seat, catching the straw in the milk box with his lips. Sucking at the banana milk, Junhong ignores the man’s question, and Deok Ajusshi doesn’t poke him for more._

 

_That day, Junhong sits in the bakery for more than five hours. He watches the employees enter and start working in the kitchen. Smiling despite himself when the sweet smell of cakes and the like fill the small enterprise. The workers accustomed to his visits by now, ignore his negligible presence and Junhong enjoys his solitude._

 

_It gives him time to examine the old owner of the bakery from behind several cakes and more banana milk bottles._

 

_‘Deok Ajusshi’. He doesn’t quite know how the name came to be but he knows that that’s all he’s ever referred to the elder as. He’s also aware that ‘Deok Ajusshi’ is somewhere around his Grandpa’s age which means he shouldn’t be calling him Ajusshi at all. But he doesn’t think the man minds._

 

_There’s a warmth in the man’s smiles, Junhong remarks as he watches the owner sits at the till, fanning himself with a hand-held fan, greeting every customer with a smile. The boy eyes the crutches sitting behind the man’s chair and wonders to himself about them. He knows that ‘Deok Ajusshi’ could walk normally before he came to own the bakery. Sure, he wasn’t around at the time, but he’s heard about him from the Channie Grandpa a lot._

 

_He wonders what could’ve caused him to lose his ability to walk but nothing ever comes to mind. Sometimes he asks the man about it, but the only reply he receives is forced smiles and a pat of his head, most of the times coupled with a sigh._

 

_Junhong is just about to take his empty milk bottles and boxes and wrappers to throw them out and get back home when he looks up at a shadow looming over him. He gulps uneasily when he sees his grandfather and Junhong almost starts crying when the man moves._

 

_But he’s surprisingly shocked when his grandfather doesn’t strike him, instead takes him into his embrace. “Here you are” he whispers into Junhong hair, caressing the boy’s face with a wobbly smile. “I was so scared when you ran out like that.”_

 

_The boy doesn’t respond back and when his Grandpa pulls away to look at him, Junhong starting crying, pushing the man away. “You’re a meanie, Grandpa! I don’t wanna talk to you!”_

 

_A little startled, Grandpa leans away a little to give Junhong some breathing space (but not enough to run away again). “Junhong I-”_

 

_He’s effectively cut off mid sentence, when Junhong shoves him further, crying still as he exclaims, “why can’t I go to the dance with Jongup as his partner!?”_

 

_The old man’s face softens as he fixes the boy’s hair behind his ear, “it’s for couples, Bunhongie. As in boy and girl partners. You’re not a girl, Junhongie. Jongup isn’t a girl.”_

 

_Junhong scoffs at the man’s explanation, crossing his arms over his chest once more. Looking away from the man in front of him, he briefly eyes ‘Deok Ajusshi’ looking at the pair of them with an unreadable expression. He ignores the look for the time being, in favor of sending a dirty look towards his Grandpa._

 

_“Who says couples can only be boy and girl, huh!?” The little boy yells back at the man. When he sees his Grandpa grapple for words, he continues harshly, “That’s so stupid! I don’t like it!”_

 

_Grandpa looks at Junhong. For a long time before sighing. After a good fifteen minutes of staring into the small boy’s eyes, his grandfather's nods and smiles at him, “you want to buy some cakes?” When Junhong only pouts back angrily, the man ruffles his hair and gets to his feet, “we’ll buy some for Jongup too. And then I’ll take you two to that dance, okay?”_

 

_At his words, Junhong’s eyes sparkle and he leaps into his grandfather’s embrace, giggling and chortling as he declares his undying love for the man._

 

_Cuddle into his arms, Junhong and hear his grandfather heave a deep sigh and he can see ‘Deok Ajusshi’ smile at them in what can only be described as relief._

_Flashback Over_

 

By the time Junhong gains semblance again the smell of the bakery he used to visit as a child has taken residence in his mind such that his entire room smells of those fragrant croissants and soufflés. As he stares at the letters, he can’t help but whimper at the childhood memory that somehow seems to make more sense now than it did during his childhood days.

 

Junhong’s hands shake as he pulls out his cellphone from the charger and searches for a number. Straining to breathe as he clicks call on a number he hasn’t called up in a long time.

 

Channie Grandpa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cheated a little in this chapter by pulling out parts of the JongLo scene from The Diary but it's Junhong's perspective this time, so please bear with me. Also, any idea who Grandpa might be? Or Deok Ajusshi???  
> #evilLaughter  
> Until next time~~~


	11. The 654th Letter

“You’re here early” the old man remarks as he lets Junhong in through the front door. A twinkle in his eyes and a wide smile on his lips. He looks as fresh as he did back in the days Junhong used to play on his shoulders. His house gives off the whiff of freshly made rice cakes and a smiles slips onto Junhong’s lips at the memory that is instigated at the smell.

 

Walking in through the threshold and into the wide planned home towards the backyard, Junhong’s eyes linger at the room next to the garden. It’s the one room in the house where he isn’t allowed to go in to. Actually, scratch that, he was never prohibited from exploring said room, he just chose to never enter it. He’s not even sure why, but recent events would prove that Junhong can be a little compulsive at times.

 

“Jongup dropped me off,” Junhong shrugs, taking off his jacket and draping it on one of the sun chairs, before plopping down in it. “I’m planning on staying the weekend, so he offered to pick me up too.”

 

The old man snorts and slaps Junhong’s thighs in mock scorn. “Who said you could stay the weekend, brat!?” The man then pinches the thigh he’s holding and chuckles when Junhong whines, letting his head fall back.

 

The two men continue to laugh at the man’s uncanny laughter and only manage to calm down when his wife enters the garden with a tray in hand. Obviously, it’s filled with everything Junhong finds delicious and he beams at the little woman before taking the tray from her hands and bowing towards her.

 

“I’m going to leave you two for a few hours and take your Grandpa’s sister out for a walk” the woman says, patting Junhong’s head when he gets up. “Don’t fight, okay?” She says in the most nonchalant manner but her tone shows seriousness.

 

And Junhong feels his ears turn red at the subtle accusation. He ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck and ducks his head embarrassed as he mumbles, “it won’t happen again, Grandma.”

 

He watches the woman walk away and into the untouched room before turning back to the old man and taking his seat again. “Long time no see, huh, Grandpa?” He mutters under breath as he starts filling his plate with some of the treats grandma had brought out for him.

 

The old man snorts again before leaning down and adding more rice mochis and cream puffs to Junhong’s platter. “The last time we met was two months ago, Bunhongie. Hardly a long time, my boy.”

 

At the use of his favourite nickname, Junhong smiles and nods his head as he explains, “it felt like two years though.” When the man looks back at him, he’s pouting as he says, “I’m not used to not talking to you, Channie Grandpa.”

 

Himchan smiles warmly at him and pats his head, for once not joking around and serious, and mumbles to himself more than to Junhong, “it was a stupid fight, after all. Stupid fights always end up being the harder ones to get over.”

 

“I’m sure Grandpa would’ve agreed too” Junhong whispers and a tear escapes his eyes at the mention of the man.

 

A silence follows his words but Himchan doesn’t allow it to linger for longer than two seconds. “I was in Busan the week before he got admitted to the ICU. We met, you know?”

 

Junhong nods his head at that, remembering his Grandpa mentioning Channie Grandpa coming over at his place to apologise for that dumb fight three months back. “Grandpa told me.” He says, taking a bite from the chicken puff. “He said you two made up and even asked me to go and apologise to you.”

 

“Of course he did” Himchan mutters fondly to himself. “He never liked fighting me, that one.” A few minutes pass before he adds, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral, Junhong”.

 

The young boy nods his head and continues to eat as he wonder how he should explain the purpose of his visit. Other than to apologise, Junhong has a question to ask the elder.

 

“Channie Grandpa…” the boy begins but stops himself mid-sentence trying to figure out what he should say or where he should start.

 

Seeing the boy struggle with himself, Himchan smiles ruefully. Picking up the tea placed on the table, he blows at the hot liquid, taking a sip before he speaks. “I guess an apology isn’t the only thing that brought you here, huh?”

 

Humiliated, would be the perfect word to describe the look on Junhong’s face at the man’s words. “It’s not like that, Grandpa…” Junhong trails off before continuing his sentence. He’s not sure what he could possibly say to sound guiltless. “I was going to come to meet you either ways.”

 

“I don’t doubt that one bit, Bunhongie” Himchan beams at the boy, patting his knee in consolation. “But I will say that you should’ve come down here about a month ago, as soon as you came back to Seoul.”

 

Junhong knows he doesn’t have an excuse, so he doesn’t make one. Instead, the boy bows his head, letting his chin touch his chest. “I was too caught up with the letters, Grandpa.”

 

“Of course you would be.”

 

The boy looks at the man who’s sending him a completely stoic, calm expression. He gulps before speaking, watching for any change in expressions in the man’s face. “I don’t know why I feel the way I do, Channie Grandpa. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with them.” Despair distorts his features.

 

Himchan watches Junhong struggle to explain himself and he can’t help but sigh as he continues to sip his tea. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t obsessed with them, Bunhongie” Channie Grandpa claims shifting his gaze from the boy to some of the flowers next to him. “You always did have a righteous bone in your body, after all.”

 

Himchan’s smirk doesn’t have the calming effect Junhong had hoped for and he shakes his head annoyed. Trying to explain himself so hard he fears he might misunderstand himself instead. “It’s different with them, Grandpa. I just…” Closing his eyes, Junhong tries to calm his breathing as words form in his mind at the speed of light. “Why would Grandpa do that? Why did Daehyun not stop writing? What happened? Did they ever meet again? I just…” Another sigh, followed by a groan. Junhong opens his eyes to stare at his Channie Grandpa as he whines, “I don’t know why but I just want to know…”

 

“Daehyun would've liked you a lot, Bunhongie” Himchan mumbles, leaning back into his chair.

 

A smile makes its way onto Junhong’s lips and he feels giddy at the statement. “Would you tell me about him then?” He asks with doe like eyes boring into Himchan.

 

The old man lets his lips curve up in approval and heaves a sigh. “I could go on talking about him for days, my boy.”

 

***

 

356-71 Daehakro,

Jongro-gu, Seoul

 

March 16th, 1969

Dear Youngjae,

 

They’re all animals. Every single one of them. They think they’re so high and mighty, that they are so much better just because they’re part of a majority.

 

I hate every single one of them.

 

Today, after I was walking back from class, I saw a few of them corner her near the sparring rooms. It was a stroke of luck I decided to follow them.

 

They were beating her up, Jae. They were torturing her.

 

And the girl she is in love with… the girl she’s going through all their shit for… she fucking joined in to jeer at her when she tried to plead her case to the authorities.

 

What authorities even? All the professors and officers turn their heads the other way when she’s being called a slut or a faggot. They literally give free reign to those assholes that torture her. They ignore the cigarette burns on her arms and legs even though it’s out in plain sight for them to see. Heck! They almost expelled her for trying to “slander a fellow student’s name” when she told them that they tried to rape her.

 

And when I tried to step in, when I tried to stop those cannibals from devouring her, they suspended me for three weeks.

 

I don’t know what to do, Jae.

 

Looking at her suffer that way… I feel helpless. And guilty. Like everything that’s happening is my fault.

 

Hana had told me that day that everyone in school knew about you being gay and that they bullied you too. I feel guilty knowing I never knew about the tortures you must’ve gone through. And seeing her in pain like this, makes it all the more hurtful. To know that you must’ve gone through all this and I never knew.

 

No matter what happens now, Jae. I’m not going to let them do this to her. She is not going to be another Yoo Youngjae who has to suffer at the hands of a few dumb shits that can’t acknowledge the fact that people can be different.

 

I’ll save her, Jae. And in saving her, I’ll try to forgive myself for not saving you. Because I know you wouldn’t want me to blame myself.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

**Seoul 1969**

“Daehyun” the girl whispers, as she takes a seat beside the twenty one year old, clutching tightly onto her lunch box. When the boy looks at her, she smiles, taking his silence as an invitation to sit.

 

“Are you feeling better?” Daehyun hastens to ask the girl as soon as she’s seated. Eyeing the bandaged hand and the cut on her cheeks with a furious mind, Daehyun’s hands fist up on their own and he sends a glare towards the group of boys standing near the cafeteria.

 

Seeing Daehyun’s eyes shoot lasers at their classmates, the girl, nods her head, and places a hand over his on the table. “I’m feeling much better now, Daehyun” she says, trying to get Daehyun to turn away from the boys cackling like hyenas near the food station. “Please don’t get mad.”

 

“How can I not get mad!?” the boy screams, eyes burning. Daehyun turns to her and grabs her shoulders, not minding when she winces, as he shoots back her, “they’re treating you as if you murdered someone! How can I not get mad when they literally fractured your arm?!”

 

The girl doesn’t respond for a while and Daehyun lets go of her shoulders, turning back heavily towards his food. “J- Daehyun…”

 

She’s cut short by Daehyun when the boy starts mumbling to himself, but loud enough for the girl to hear him. “I’m so scared. What’s happening to you now, could’ve happened to Youngjae too. And seeing how helpless I am right now, I wouldn’t have been able to save him either.” The boy looks at her with fear dancing in his eyes as he continues, “I want to help you. I want to stop this madness but I don't know how.”

 

“Youngjae is safe now, Daehyun” the girl whispers to him, rubbing soft circles on his knuckles. “Nothing happened to him, and nothing will in future either.”

 

He contemplates her words and nods tiredly after a while. Jerking up to look at her when a thought passes his mind, “why don’t you just leave? Just transfer out of this academy.”

 

The girl looks away at his words and bites her lips. Eyes glassy. “That would hurt more, Daehyun.”

 

“It could keep you safe, at least” the boy begs. Praying that the girl comes to her senses.

 

Of course, the girl doesn’t reply back, instead chooses to look back at Daehyun with an unreadable expression. She lets silence for a while before speaking, effectively shutting off all of Daehyun’s ideas about moving away. “Can you let go of Youngjae, despite him letting go of you?”

 

***

 

He stares at the scene in front of him with blatant disgust. But step in because he knows it would be dumb in this situation. _She’ll realize her stupidity once all this is over_ he tells himself as he watches the girl crying on her knees in front of a small group of girls.

 

“I can’t believe I thought of you as a little sister” one of the taller girls, the one who she is in love with, whines. “Gosh! How disgusting!” She flips her hair and Daehyun hopes she’ll sprain her neck in the process.

 

One of the taller girl’s lackeys then kicks the crying girl still kneeling on the ground and chortles when she cries out in pain. “Imagine all those times we had to change in front of her. She must’ve have a field day that pervert!”

 

The girl who is the root of problems once again scoffs and blows out a lock of hair from her eyes, complaining to the other girls, hording around the smaller one, “we should give her a taste of her own medicine, don’t you think?” The smaller girl, still on the ground, watches with a broken expression how the love of her life whispers into the ears of the other girls and is too preoccupied with her own soul shattering to realize the bullies looming over her.

 

By the time Daehyun realises what’s going on and reaches her from the other side of the quad, the other girls have left. And sitting in the middle of the grass field is a crying girl. Her clothes torn and her lips busted.

 

The jacket Daehyun drapes over her tiny body, doesn’t do much to hide the scars over her body. Much less the ones she’s bearing on her soul.

 

***

 

Himchan stares at the scars adorning Daehyun’s face with a horrified look of utter concern. As Daehyun takes a seat opposite to him in the soju tent bar. They were supposed to grab some samgyusal and drinks and Himchan had been looking forward to the meeting for almost a week. But, the wounds Daehyun was carrying had suddenly put him in a sour mood.

 

“What the hell happened to your face?!” Himchan screeched, the moment the younger one looked up at him. And when Daehyun instead of smile, he felt his fingers curl up into a fist. “Daehyun, what happened?”

 

“Can’t we talk about that later, Channie?” Daehyun groans and Himchan can make out the pain in the boy’s words. So, despite his mind screaming at him to push on, the elder one heaves a sigh and goes on to order their meal.

***

**Seoul 2017**

“What happened? Why was he injured?” Junhong sits at the edge of his seat, with eagerness burning in his eyes.

Himchan heaves a sigh and leans back into his chair. Continuing to sip at his herbal tea, the man watches the doe-eyed boy looking at him desperately. “He got into a fight with the bullies at the academy again.”

The boy slumps into his seat at the explanation. A million questions ram into his head at that but he doesn’t voice them out. His eyes staring at the cakes in front of him. “He did manage to save her?”

“That day?” Himchan cryptically asks. “Yes. He managed to get her out of the fray and walked her home just in case.

“No…” Junhong whispers, voice hollow and hopeless. Gulping before he asks, “I meant eventually…” he gulps once again and looks at the man with shaking pupils. “Did Daehyun manage to save her eventually?”

 

 

 


	12. The 942nd Letter

**Seoul 1969**

“Don’t worry about me, Daehyun” the girl whimpers to the older boy. “You should go on home already.”

 

Before the boy even has time to speak, Himchan interrupts his train of thought. “She’s right Daehyun” the elder pats his shoulder as he speaks, “you’ve got an early morning tomorrow. You have to catch that train.” He turns to the girl caressing her hair as he continues, “I’m here now, and I’ll look after her.”

 

The haggard boy shakes his head as he continues staring at the girl lying in the hospital bed. He sighs at the black eye she’s sporting and a tear trails down his cheeks when his fingers brush against the IV tubes coming out of her veins. “I’m not leaving” he mutters darkly, holding the girl’s hands tighter in his own as he shifts closer to her. “I can’t leave her alone.”

 

Alarm crosses Himchan’s features and he moves forward in his seat to pull Daehyun away from the girl. “You’re crazy, right?” He demands of the boy. Staring at the red-rimmed eyes that hold anger in them. “Youngjae’s father passed away, Daehyun. You can’t just not go!”

 

At the name of his friend, Daehyun’s eyes shake in their sockets and he bites his lips, looking away. Staring once more at the injured girl in front of him, “I can’t leave her alone here, Chan. I won’t.”

 

The elder’s expression softens at his words and Himchan brings his hands to the boy’s neck to rub the nape of his neck to calm him down a little. “I’ll be here, Daehyun. I’m here for her.”

 

“Exactly, Daehyunie” the girl beams at him, grabbing onto Himchan’s hand as she speaks. “Himchan will look after me. And it’s only a matter of days. I’ll be out of here in no time.”

 

Uncertainty still shines in the boy’s eyes and he stares at the smiling girl. “What if they come back while I’m gone?” He mumbles to himself. It’s a rhetoric question and both his friends know that he’s not looking for an answer. But Himchan replies nonetheless.

 

“Then she can stay with me.” The girl looks at the elder sharply but when he smiles back at her assuring, she simply gulps and nods her head, albeit a bit warily. “You should go. You have to.”

 

When Daehyun doesn’t answer the girl then speaks, “you’re scared of seeing him, aren’t you?” Neither Daehyun nor Himchan add to her query, so she smiles weakly and continues “you’re scared of what will happen when you two finally meet so you’re just looking for excuses to avoid going.”

 

“I’m crazy, huh?” He chuckles dimly. “After sending him all those letters, I’m avoiding the chance meet him now.”

 

A hand on his back makes him look up from the girl and Himchan is staring at him with a gentle smile. “Go.” He shakes the boy, determination in his voice. “You have to go. Meet Youngjae and ask him why he never replied. Beg him for forgiveness if you have and tell him you want to stay friends. That you don’t mind that he’s gay.” Himchan’s voice cracks as he says “don’t miss this chance, Daehyun. Youngjae deserves to meet you again.”

 

Limply, Daehyun falls into the elder’s embrace and nods his head in his friend’s chest. Hope bubbling in his gut at the thought of finally meeting Youngjae.

 

**Seoul 2017**

Junhong sits numb at the dining table staring at the little old lady in front of him. She doesn’t look all that old but her hair has all turned grey. A lopsided smile rests on her lips and she is tittering in her seat clapping her hands every once in a while Himchan’s wife pours the stew in her bowl. The oddest thing about her though, are the burn marks lining her arms and the side of her neck.

 

“Did you have fun today, Sweetie?” Himchan asks the old woman who Junhong has seen for the first time ever. “Did Sooyoung buy you a lot of cotton candy?”

 

Mutely the old lady nods her head, resembling a small child, as she starts slurping the stew in her bowl. Her movements looking awfully similar to a five-year-old instead of a sixty-year-old. She steals a look at Junhong but quickly shifts her attention towards the rice bowl in front of her.

 

“We even bought her a brand new hairpin” Himchan’s wife beams at the pair, pointing at the flower pin in the woman’s hair. “Didn’t you want to show it to Himchan, huh?” She smiles at her, ruffling the woman’s hair.

 

The woman shyly looks at Himchan, wary of Junhong’s gaze at her, and points at the hairpin in her bun. “Is pink…” she mumbles inaudibly then goes back to her food.

 

Watching the scene unfold in front of him, Junhong doesn’t know what to make of this scenario. Himchan and his wife are talking so fondly with the old lady as if she were a mere child and even her actions suggest a regressive mentality. But he just can’t understand what all this means.

 

“Junhong” Himchan’s voice breaks through his internal dialogue and he looks at the old man with enlarged eyes. “Eat up already, boy,” he says and Junhong can’t do anything but nod his head jerkily, getting back to his food.

 

***

 

 _“So she probably had a mental disorder, Bunhongie,”_ Jongup tells him on the phone. He’s sitting in the windowsill of the guest bedroom and staring out at the night sky. Head resting on a pillow as he waits for sleep to finally come to him.  _“It’s just old age. I don’t see why you’re so unsettled.”_

“She seemed familiar, Jongup” Junhong insists, yawning into the receiver. “I felt like I knew her. And why is she even living with Channie Grandpa?”

 

 _“She’s his sister, Bunhongie”_ Jongup continues  _“It’s not odd for her to be living with him.”_

“But she had burn marks on her body, Jongup. She even -“

 

Jongup cuts him off mid-sentence,  _“Junhong, it’s nothing, kiddo. Trust me when I say this. You probably got shocked because you’d never seen her and suddenly you were having dinner with her.”_

Junhong wants to speak but he knows Jongup won’t understand. He doesn’t even understand it all himself. “Forget it, Uppie” he mumbles disheartened, “you should probably sleep now. I’m tired too.”

 

 _“Don’t be this way, Bunhongie”_ Jongup whines into the phone and Junhong bites his lips at the elder’s tone. His stomach feels awfully heavy but he’s not sure with what.  _“I understand that you felt odd meeting her, but she has nothing to do with anything at all. Don’t worry too much over it, okay?”_

Junhong nods dumbly at the words and whispers a quiet “yes.” And when Jongup wishes him a goodnight, he mumbles, “goodnight, Jongup” back. He sighs and places the phone back into its place, turning to walk towards the bed, but stops midway.

 

The old lady, Himchan’s sister, is standing in the doorway, holding onto her blanket as she stares at him cautiously. Junhong feels anchored to the bedroom floor and stares back at the scared woman. Gulping when she starts walking towards him.

 

He forces his legs to move, to run away, but his feet don’t budge. His throat goes dry by the time the woman stops in front of him. Staring back at him with beady eyes. And looking at her, Junhong can only find one phrase to describe.

 

_Tiny as Thumbelina._

 

Scepticism fogs his mind as he tries to put the pieces together. He’d known all along that Himchan didn’t have any other siblings. Even Jongup had been surprised when he’d found out about the elder suddenly having a sister. He’s almost sure he knows who this woman is. But what he’s confused about is why she’s here. Living with Himchan.

 

“You’re Youngjae” she mumbles to him and whatever doubts had been running through his minds are only amplified. He finally moves but his body seems to still be out of his control as he finds himself nodding a yes.

 

His insides are tumbling with warning but his body doesn’t follow and he mumbles “I’m Youngjae” back at her.

 

A moment passes where the woman keeps staring at him. He watches her reach under her blanket and pull out a pink envelope and duck her head as she pushes it towards him. “I- It fell…” she mumbles, stammering. “It fell from his p- pocket.”

 

“Whose pocket?” Junhong whispers back. His forehead creases into concern and he bends his knees to get on her eye level and holds her shoulders gently.

 

The old woman smiles at him, a breeze curve of the lips that seems dims due to old age. He’s sure she must’ve looked gorgeous when she was young. Her eyes twinkling still despite all the pain Junhong knows she’s lived through.

 

She brings her hand up to cup his cheeks and fondness shines in her eyes for just the slightest moment. “Daehyun, silly,” she tells him, smiling at the name. “He always carries it with him but it fell out of his pocket today.”

 

Junhong takes note of her tone. It’s no longer the childish mumbling anymore. She sounds more in her wits now. Like she’s suddenly sane now. He looks at the pink letter and it’s different than the others he has read. Daehyun always used white envelopes with Youngjae’s address on the top flap, but the one he’s holding is pink in colour without an address. “You sure this is Daehyun’s?” He whispers to her “are you sure Daehyun wrote this?”

 

“No, silly” the woman giggles, punching his shoulder lightly. “You wrote it, remember? Soon after he came back from Busan.”

 

It’s earth-shattering. Even though the incident has no consequence now, Junhong feels faint at the news. The realization that he’s holding Youngjae’s letter to Daehyun, possibly the only one in existence, is jarring. His hands shake as he turns the letter in his hands and finds it sealed.

 

 

“D- did he…” He begins, licking his lips so as to ease the words out. “Did he not… read it?”

 

She pouts, turning her head to the side “he said he would one day.”

 

The way she speaks makes him feel like she is still stuck in the past. Stuck in the same timeline she had lost her sanity in. The one in which Daehyun had just come back from Suwon. He feels like she's still living in that time. Speaking in that time. In all those years ago when Daehyun was still writing his letters. A forced breath escapes his lungs as Junhong stares at the unopened letter. Another letter that’s never been read. And the weight of it is so much more than any of the others he’s read till date.

 

“How do you know I sent it?” Junhong asks. And had he been in his bearings he would’ve realised how odd it was for him to be referring to himself as Youngjae so easily. As it is, Junhong is completely out of as he looks at the woman with questions in his eyes.

 

“Don’t you remember?” She says, “You gave it to me when you came to meet Daehyun.”

 

His hands tremble at the statement. Even more when he realises that there’s no way the woman is lying. And suddenly he doesn’t want to read the letter. He wants to cry. He wants to go home, back to Busan, and cry in his Grandpa’s chest because he’s scared.

 

“Did we meet?” Junhong asks her, but by now he doesn’t care for an answer, because there’s finally a reply. Sitting in his hands in the form of a pink marble envelope. “Did I get to meet Daehyun?”

 

The old woman shakes her head a no, but Junhong couldn’t care less because Youngjae finally replied. “You can give it him yourself” she mutters, moving away from him. “He’ll be at Mrs. Lee’s bakery.”

 

With that as a final greeting for the night, the woman walks away and out of his bedroom.

 

Junhong stares at the envelope in his hand and he’s sure of one thing. He’s not sleeping anytime soon. So he walks towards his airbag and pulls of the next letter in Daehyun’s unread pile, placing Youngjae’s letter in the pocket on the top.

 

***

 

356-71 Daehakro,   
Jongro-gu, Seoul  
  
December 29, 1969

 

Dear Youngjae,

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, Youngjae. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

I don’t know why I did it.

 

But this wasn’t supposed to happen, Jae.

 

I wasn’t going to… I didn’t mean to…

 

I’m sorry, Youngjae.

 

I’m sorry.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

 


	13. The 2261st Letter

**Suwon 1969**

Daehyun is seeing him but it’s so hard to believe he’s here. It’s been more than two years since he’s seen Youngjae and the boy has changed entirely from when he last saw him. It’s horrifying, but Youngjae doesn’t look good. Doesn’t look healthy.

 

His cheeks have sunk deeper into his cheekbones, and his eyes bear circles underneath them. Hair outgrown and his broad shoulders (one thing that did grow in size) are hunched. A weak smile on his lips defies his sorrow as he bows to the guests that come to pay their respects to his father’s shrine.

 

And in that moment, Daehyun feels his blood boil. He feels so angry he could kill.

 

Because during all those days, all those wasted letters, he had stuck to the hope that wherever he may be, Youngjae was at least healthy (if not happy). But seeing him now, seeing his greying skin and his chapped lips, Daehyun feels betrayed.

 

Without restrain – he doesn’t even know what drives him to do this – he races towards the Kim Brothers, stopping stock still right in front of Youngjae. Heaving and staring at the boy with the hatred and anger. He ignores Youngwon, who’s sitting beside Youngjae looking at the pair with a terrified expression set on his lips.

 

And when Youngjae looks at him with a smile stuck to his lips, Daehyun loses it.

 

It’s a smile of relief. Of greeting. The kind you give to your best friend on a reunion. The kind of smile Youngjae shouldn’t have the guts to give Daehyun after two years of ignoring his letters.

 

If only someone had stopped him then, he wouldn’t have committed his greatest mistake.

 

**Seoul 2017**

Junhong stares at the old man once he quiets down. Letting silence rein as his story comes to an end. The boy can’t help but let his eyes stray away from Himchan towards the bedroom of the old lady he’d spoken to the night before.

 

Wetting his lips, Junhong heaves a sigh and mumbles to himself more than to Himchan, “why would he..? I mean... he wasn’t...” Of course, his words fail him and he struggles to thread his thoughts into something sensible.

 

“He wasn’t” Himchan says before Junhong can mull up any other ideas. “He isn’t, Junhong”.

 

“Then why would he do it?”

 

Himchan looks away from the boy and bites his lips. As if fighting himself over how to say it. “Sometimes, when you miss someone you do crazy things Junhong.” He begins, choosing his words carefully as he continues. “After seeing someone for long, sometimes we do things we would’ve never thought of doing in the past. And we don’t regret those things even after we’ve done them.” Looking back at Junhong he smiles ruefully as he explains, “some people cry. Some get angry. Daehyun...” biting his lips the elder trails off.  “What he did was... different but it wasn’t all that surprising. Because in that moment Daehyun couldn’t have expressed his feelings to Youngjae any better. No words would’ve conveyed his heart the way that moment did.”

 

An eternity passes away in that in door garden with Junhong pondering over what to say, when he finally whispers, “So what happened? They got separated again, but how? Why?”

 

“Imagine the entire town being witness to their reunion, Bunhongie.” Himchan says, looking away, biting his lips. “Do think Youngjae would’ve wanted to meet Daehyun again? What do you think happened?”

 

*****

 

“Why’d you break up with her though?” Junhong asks him as they pay the food stand seller. It’s freezing cold and Jongup had suggested meeting up at the park. They’ve always been a little unconventional after all, so Junhong actually is excited to meet out in the cold. It’s been almost three weeks after he spoke to Himchan and Junhong is finally feeling little better now.

 

Jongup shrugs as he stares at his own corn kernel cup. “I realised it wouldn’t hurt me if we stopped dating.”

 

The younger stares at the elder with an unknown expression for the longest while before nodding. “So…” he begins, spooning kernels into his mouth as he hums, “basically you realised that you didn’t like her enough?”

 

“More or less, yeah” Jongup mumbles.

 

Junhong nods in understanding and a silence settles over the pair. He’s giddy, he’s not sure why. Then again, he thinks he’s already known. For a long time now. As he savours the corn cup in his hands a memory flashes into his eyes.

 

_Flashback_

_Junhong eyes the boy from behind his textbook before jerking back to the page he was supposed to be reading when Jongup looks up at him. The sixteen year old shakes his head and groans under his breath at the fact that Jongup might have realised he was staring. Alas! Jongup is as oblivious as they get, so the elder merely smiles at him before returning back to his own homework._

_As soon as Jongup turns back to his work again, Junhong peeks up from his textbook and starts staring at the boy again. He’s trying to figure out exactly why watching Jongup makes his stomach feel all kinds of bittersweet._

_They’ve been friends since forever so realising something odd is happening doesn’t take a genius to figure out. He can clearly remember the day his stomach had taken to screaming in Jongup’s presence. It had been snowing while they were walking back from school and Jongup had offered him his hand to hold._

_‘Your nails are turning blue with the cold, Bunhongie!’ Jongup had yelled at him, cupping his hands with a frown. ‘Just hold mine until we get home. I swear you’ve got the coldest pair of hands I ever held!’_

_And Junhong had felt that rush of excitement in his guts. That unnamed rush. He had seen their hands together and words tumbled out of him faster than he could stop them, ‘good thing yours are the warmest I ever held then’._

_Now, sitting opposite to the elder, his face flushes at the memory._

_He’d always wanted to fall in love like in those animes, after all._

_Flashback Over_

“Junhong!” Jongup screams into his reverie, pulling him out of his thoughts. And then physically pulling him back into his arms.

 

Befuddled with what just happened, Junhong stares at his friend “wh- what’s the matter?”

 

Jongup stares at him with an unguided expression. For a second Junhong sees his own emotions reflected back at him. The elder looks at their entwined hands and licks his lips as he looks up at Junhong. Mumbling more to himself than to Junhong, “your hands are always so cold.”

 

Another dimple mars the perfect visage and Junhong takes another bite full mumbling, “I have bad circulation, Oongie.” As if it’s something that Jongup should know already. He’s aware that it’s something Jongup doesn’t know about him, mainly because they never held hands after that one time. But something tells him Jongup should know this already. “But your hands are always so warm.” He squeezes the hands clutching onto his own.

 

Jongup once again stares at their hands. Looking completely unmatched. They don’t fit together like Junhong had hoped they would, but they feel comfortable. Warm. Inviting. Jongup holds his hand back tight. Gentle, but tight.

 

The elder then looks up at the younger boy and tightens his grip as he drags him towards the benches. “That’s so I can hold yours, idiot.”

 

And Junhong’s feelings for the elder only grow stronger.

 

**Suwon 1969**

“What happened to you?!” Himchan asks as soon as he lays eyes upon Daehyun’s battered form. Racing towards the boy. The train commuters around him are giving him the oddest looks but Daehyun’s bleeding lips make him ignore their presence entirely.

 

“How is she” Daehyun ignores the query sent his way and smiles at the elder. Hefting his bag higher up on his shoulders.

 

Himchan grits his teeth at the younger boy and balls his hands into fists. “Fucking tell me what happened to you Daehyun!” he yells at the boy, earning a few alarmed looks from the passengers getting off the train behind Daehyun. He grabs the boy’s shoulders and shakes him violently, disregarding the pain that washes over Daehyun’s face when he does that, and stares at the boy like a madman. “What the hell happened back in Suwon that you’re here in front of me looking like you were fucking mobbed, Park Daehyun!?”

 

The boy looks at him then. Broken and injured beyond repair. Lips trembling as he moves forward. Letting his head fall into Himchan’s shoulder as a whimper leaves his lips. “I ruined everything, Himchan.” He sobs, his entire frame shaking. “I- I ruined everything.”

 

Numb with the knowledge, Himchan simply stands holding Daehyun in his embrace. No words leave his mouth as he stares at the trains moving while he stands in the crowd. Holding a weak, broken twenty one year old boy in his arms.

 

*****

 

“Why didn’t you visit her then?” Daehyun asks him as they sit down for dinner in Himchan’s apartment. The elder had insisted Daehyun stay with him for a few days until his wounds. “I’ve been gone for so long, why didn’t you visit her during that time, Himchan?” The boy agitatedly calls out, not touching the food set out in front of him. “You said you would take care of her!”

 

Himchan rolls his eyes and places a pair of chopsticks next to Daehyun’s hands as he explains, “she herself told me to stay away, Daehyun. Said she was visiting her grand aunt for a few days to rest.”

 

“Grand aunt?” Daehyun scrutinises the elder. Watching him carefully for a possible lie.

 

“Yes, Daehyun” Himchan bites, pushing the rice bowl closer towards Daehyun. “But I phone her every day to make sure she’s alright and she always texts me in the night before going to bed. She’s fine.”

 

The boy bites his lips rather shamefully at Himchan’s tone and limply nods his head before picking up the chopsticks. Muttering thank you before he starts eating. Of course, Himchan’s awaiting gaze trained upon him makes him all the more conscious of the scars adorning his face. He huffs a sigh and looks up at the look of utter worry on the elders face and bites his lips as he says, “I’m Himchan. Really, I am.”

 

“Is that why you took so long to come back?” Himchan asks. Voice hollow. The chicken stew he’d made for the boy, forgotten. “You said you were going to come back in a week, by the time she was discharged from the clinic.” The broad shouldered boy places his spoon down and crosses his arms on the table as he sighs again. “It’s been five weeks Daehyun. Is that what took you so long?”

 

Nodding his head, Daehyun looks away from Himchan and back towards the pipping stew in front of him. Any other and he’d be jumping with delight to be able to eat Himchan’s famous  _samgyetang_ but right now, his stomach is weeping in pain. “Youngwon was able to talk to them to let me go.”

 

The dark haired boy swallows a lump in his throat as he looks at the battered boy in front of him. His lips bust open. His eyes black with cuts in the corner. Daehyun’s entire torso is red with chain marks, and Himchan doesn’t even want to imagine the scars that garnish the boy’s heart.

 

“Daehyun…” Himchan licks his lips uneasily making Daehyun look at him with a raised eye. “A- are you…” He can’t bring himself to say. Because even if he doesn’t want to it sound like it, his words will sound like an insult. So he bites his lips and shakes his head, turning back to his food, whispering to the boy, “never mind.”

 

Naturally, nothing misses Daehyun. He’s learnt to read people’s tiniest of behaviours and tones. He has had to. “I’m not.” He whispers back, grabbing the spoon until his knuckles turns blue, due the bruises still decorating his wrist. “I can’t explain myself but I’m not. I know it.”

 

“Maybe you’re confused…” Himchan offers, biting back his words the moment they leave his tongue. He knows it’s the last thing Daehyun wants to hear.

 

“I’m not” Daehyun mumbles, ignoring the panic in Himchan’s eyes at his own suggestion. “Everything would have been so easy if I were, Chan. But, I’m not.”

 

And Himchan doesn’t need any more conformation from the boy. The desperation in Daehyun’s voice is more than enough for him to know the boy isn’t lying. Isn’t confused one bit.

 

**Seoul 2017**

“Yes, Mom” Junhong mutters over the phone. “I got all the packages. The last one arrive just today in the mail.”

 

 _“I’m glad, Sweetie”_ his mother says from the other line. He can make out the sound of her replacing the bedsheets and smiles when he realises that his own sleeping habits come from her.

 

“Are you getting ready for bed now?” he asks, bringing out his own bedsheet from the laundry room to set up his bed. “How’s grandma, by the way? Has she settled in good enough?”

 

Junhong hears the smile in his mother’s voice as she tiredly explains,  _“she misses your Grandpa a lot but other than that she’s settled in just fine.”_

At the mention of his grandfather Junhong stops arranging his bed for a second and sits down on the still unmade side of it as he calls out to his mother. “Mom…”

 

The woman waits for him to say something but when he doesn’t speak, he huffs a sigh and stops herself, calling Junhong to listen to her this time.  _“Junhong. He really regretted what he did. He really did.”_

“I know, Mom. I know it must’ve been hard on him and I can understand why he did it.” He lies back in the bed, staring at his ceiling fan as he continues, “Channie Grandpa told me what happened to Daehyun. It makes sense he would want to protect his own brother, Mom.”

 

_“But he still regretted it, Junhong. For a long time, he did.”_

Junhong doesn’t give her a reply. He doesn’t need to. His mother understands him almost as well as his Grandpa had. Better than his father would’ve had he lived past his third birthday. Breathing in deeply the smell of the scented candles Jongup had given him a few days ago, he mumbles into the receiver once he hears his mother start working again.

 

“I’m thinking of visiting Suwon, Mom” he begins. “We’ve got a week long holiday coming up so I was thinking I’d visit.” He sit up and stares at himself in the vanity as he explains, “it’s already four months now. I really miss you two.”

 

He hears his mother shuffling around before settling into the bed.  _“Bring Jongup with you, Junhong.”_ She tells him.  _“I’m sure Grandpa would want to meet him”._

“I don’t think I’d be able to go to his grave yet, Mom” Junhong confesses to his mother. “I don’t want to think he’s dead.”

 

 _“I understand that, Sweetie.”_ She mumbles,  _“But Jongup had phoned me as soon as you’d reached Seoul and he had wanted to come right then but I had stopped him. Because I knew you couldn’t go to Father’s grave alone. He’s been waiting ever since, Bunhongie.”_

“He… He hasn’t visited yet?”

 

 _“He begged me to let him come but I had to make sure you had company, Sweetie.”_ His mother explains. Sadness echoing in her voice.  _“Bring him with you and visit Grandpa’s grave site with him. He deserves to see him too, Bunhongie. Don’t take that away from him. And this time, be the support he needs to face this.”_ She heaves a sigh and Junhong can almost feel her patting his head fondly as he says,  _“he is probably hurting a lot more than he shows, you know? Since he missed the funeral.”_

Junhong swallows uneasily, nodding his head as he gets to his feet to finish arranging his bed for the night. “Of course I’ll bring him.”

 

* * *

 

449-003 Daehakro,   
Jongro-gu, Seoul

 

August 9, 1973

Dear Youngjae,

Mrs. Lee passed away today.

 

I thought after burying my own father two years ago, I had lost all my tears but clearly I had more left.

 

She was a mother to me, Youngjae. She was very dear.

 

After that day, that day when I ruined everything we had, I had lost everyone. You know right? Certainly, you do. Father had disowned me. And I never even imagined coming back to Suwon. I’ll always be thankful to your brother for talking to the townspeople to let me attend my own father’s funeral.

 

I had thought I lost everyone in the world then. But Mrs. Lee was here and so were the others. But now Mrs. Lee is dead. And my little Thumbelina? That girl is on the verge of death too.

 

It feels like losing you all over again, Jae.

 

I keep losing people.

 

I keep losing you, Youngjae.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

* * *

 

**Notes:**

Two things: 1} Many people are asking me why I don't name the girl Daehyun is trying to save throughout the story. This is because I want everyone to be able to relate to her. I don't want to specify a name or put a face to the character because this is something that can happen to anyone and I want to generalize her plight to everyone. If you or someone you know has been bullied or tortured for their sexuality, I want you to see what it feels like to not only the victim but also those who are close to the victims.

2} I have created a poll on Twitter just to get an idea of which direction ya'll think the story will go to. Of course, I've already written out the ending, so this poll is merely for my entertainment. Cuz I wanna know how many of ya'll are gonna cry by the end of this story and how many are prepared for what's to come. Please follow this link to vote, if you like: [POLL](https://twitter.com/CmiMiu/status/1022187984052019201)

Until next time~~~

 

 


	14. The 3110th Letter

449-003 Daehakro,

Jongro-gu, Seoul

December 06, 1975

Dear Youngjae,

She gave birth to a boy.

 

My little Thumbelina had cried a lot. Of course she had. Broken and beaten the way she was, I’m surprised the child even survived.

 

I still can’t believe her parents could do this to her, Jae. Force her to marry a man like that. Sell her away the way they did the moment they found out she was gay. Heck! I can’t believe a man like him even exists!

 

Who the hell beats up a pregnant woman, Jae!? She’s his wife! Carrying his child! How could he torture her like that!? Enough for her to go mad!?

 

I’m glad he died in that factory accident. I know I shouldn’t be but I’m so relieved she doesn’t have to live with him anymore.

 

After going through all that torture during the academy for being gay, having this happen to her. It’s not fair, Jae. It’s not right.

 

Can’t you pray for her, Jae? Your prayers will work for her. I know you can make her better again. I know you can make her hurt less.

 

I’m so scared, Jae…

 

I don’t know if I can take care of her. I don’t know if I can take responsibility for her. Of course I have Himchan and Yongguk to support me through this all but I’m still not ready for this. I’m twenty eight now, but I’m still so scared. Of course, I’m scared.

 

For now, though, all I’m worried about is the baby, Jae. This child who will never know of his parents. I only spent a day with him but I already know it’ll be just as hard letting him go as it was letting you leave for the second time.

 

But I have to let him go. It’s for the best. I can’t raise him and she isn’t capable of anymore.

 

I should send him away to an orphanage right, Jae? That’s the right choice, right? Please tell me that’s what I should do. Just tell me what I should do…

 

I’m scared beyond measure. I don’t know what to do, Jae. I can’t do this alone…

 

I need someone. I need you.

 

Please… Help me.

 

PS: I’m having the hardest time naming him. Do you want to name him instead?

I love you,

Daehyun

* * *

 

**Seoul 2018**

It’s late into the night when Junhong wakes up from his sleep and stumbles towards the kitchen. Groggy and disoriented. Not in the least bit sleepy. Images of the little hang out with Jongup just a few hours ago, pooling around his mind like a computer virus.

 

His lips are still trembling from that moment in the park where he had accidently licked Jongup’s finger, when the elder had tried to wipe at the cream on his lips. Naturally, he had played it off as a joke, but his insides have been burning since then.

 

Groaning under his breath, Junhong prepares a cup of hot chocolate for himself and eyes the letter suitcase sitting near his arm chair. Sleep is not going to be his friend tonight, so he might as well catch up with the letters.

 

He thinks back to the evening and how it began with Jongup wanting to watch him practice his dance routine. And usually when Jongup says that it only means that the elder is either tired of working on his own projects and wants a distraction or because he had a lot on his mind. And needs a distraction. In both the scenarios, Junhong is always more than happy to oblige.

 

But tonight, Junhong knows it is neither of the two. Jongup’s semester has ended and he’s not working on any songs as far as Junhong is aware. And the elder’s disposition was so merry tonight that Junhong doubts there was something troubling him.

 

He looks at the clock on his cell phone showing the date and briefly wonders if it’s because today marks the day Jongup’s uncle had gone away two years ago. But he quickly refutes the idea. Sure, Jongup had been bitter about the man leaving but they call each other almost every week. He knows Jongup isn’t sad about that anymore. Junhong himself has kept in touch with the man so he knows that’s not the case.

 

It boggles his mind just what could the reason be. And sure, it’s not such a big deal if Jongup wants to watch him dance once in a while. But this has been going on for a while now. Junhong has noticed something oddly, flatteringly, strange in Jongup’s behaviours the past few months.

 

He’s a lot more attentive, kind. And something in the way he looks at him makes Junhong heart flutter more than it has for the elder in all his twenty years of life. He shakes his head and pats his cheeks when his mind travels to the moment in the park again. For a second, Junhong had felt that Jongup would kiss him!

 

 _“Urgh! Get a grip, Junhong!”_ he yells at himself and heaves a breath turning back to his brewing drink.

 

As he watches the steam from the kettle rise, a memory from his childhood interrupts his blushing.

 

_Flashback_

_Little Junhong, still only seven and barely tall enough to reach the church pews, leans over Jongup’s side as he watches the older, taller boy light a candle at the altar. His enlarged eyes, doe-like and sparkling, watch how Jongup gently holds the candelabra and walks towards the man crouched near the statue of Mary and Jesus._

 

_“Shinboo-niim!” the elder boy beams as he runs towards the crouched man, hugging him from behind. It’s odd to see Jongup being so affectionate to someone, so Junhong just stands where he had been, watching the pair interact._

 

_“Jongup!” the elder man sings, turning around and ruffling his friend’s hair. A deep, guttural laughter issuing from his lips as he leans down to hug the boy. “What are you doing here, my boy?”_

 

_Jongup, once again so unlike himself, holds onto the man's hand and grins as he says, “I bwought Junhongie to meet you!” The eight year old titters, turning around and waving little Junhong over. “That’s him!”_

 

_Junhong shyly waves at the man and yearns a warm smile in return. The man straightens his legs and with Jongup’s had still in his own, walks towards the younger boy. Standing just a feet away from him. “Hi, Junhong.” He mutters, crouching down in front of him again and pushes his hand out in greeting, “it’s nice to meet you.”_

_Flashback over_

 

Junhong sighs as he shakes his head at the memory. He’d always loved Jongup’s uncle. The man had always been a pillar of support for his elder friend. He remembers Jongup telling him on his eleventh birthday how Mr. Yoo had taken him in when he was still only three years old after his parents’ death. Junhong, at the time only ten, had not known how to react to the news, so he had merely hugged Jongup the entire night till they fell asleep. Even now, he’s never sure what to do and how to comfort his friend when the topic of his parents comes around.

 

He’d always pitied Jongup but had also always been a little jealous of the man too. His Shinbu-nim was a great man after all.

 

As he pours himself a large cup of cocoa, he reminisces all the memories he shared with the elder man. He’s not sure why he misses him so much tonight, but he think it might have something to do with tonight being the anniversary of his last meeting with Mr. Yoo.

 

_Flashback_

_“Don’t you think you should tell him you like him though,” Shinbu-nim asks him as he’s sitting on one of the church pews. When Junhong looks up at the man, he smiles and ruffles his hair, “Jongup can be a little dense when it comes to these things.”_

 

_Sixteen year old Junhong stares at the inviting eyes of the elder and leans down to rest his head on the man’s shoulder as he sniffles at the thought of it. He’s known of his crush on Jongup for three months now, and it’s driving him nuts. It doesn’t help that his Grandfather is not the right person to talk about his budding feelings for his best friend, or that his mother is more or less aloof about these matters. He knows she wouldn’t mind but is also aware that her decision will waver in her father’s wake. His only hope has been Jongup’s Shinbu-nim who had been away to Daegu._

 

_The moment Jongup had told him his uncle would be coming back from his yearly vacation to Daegu, Junhong had been restless. Now, sitting in front of the man, Junhong isn’t sure what to say._

 

_He gulps as he tries to muster up courage to say it, “I- I really like him, Shinbu-nim.”_

 

_He said it. After three months of trying to figure out his feelings, he finally admits it. It’s sardonically exciting to say it out loud and Junhong is so thankful Shinbu-nim is here to listen to his timid confession._

 

_“I know you do, Junhong” the man cards his hands through Junhong’s hair as he continues, “you sent me four letters in succession telling me you were crushing on him the same day you found out.”_

 

_The man’s laughter does little to ease Junhong’s worry as he sits staring at the Jesus statue in the small church. They’re alone in the altar right now and the setting sun outside indicates that the priest will soon be coming to close the cathedral for the night. Still, he doesn’t want to continue his train of thought. He wants to stay like that._

 

_“It’s wrong, right?” Junhong mumbles, still staring at Jesus’s statue, illuminate by an orange glow from sunset behind it. “Being gay is bad, right, Shinbu-nim?”_

 

_“I wouldn’t say that,” Shinbu-nim shrugs his shoulders and looks down at Junhong. The boy staring up at him with tears in his eyes. “I don’t think it’s bad at all, Bunhongie.”_

 

_Junhong shakes his head and hides his face in the man’s jacket as he whispers, “Grandpa will hate me.”_

 

_When Shinbu-nim doesn’t say anything, Junhong looks up with scared eyes at the man and gets terrified of the look he receives. Of sadness. Of resentment. “He might,” Shinbu-nim whispers. And Junhong’s heart falls into his stomach with a thud._

 

_He can’t have that. He can’t have his Grandpa hating him. He just can’t let that happen._

 

_“W- What should I do?” he stutters. He’s terrified. So terrified that speaking seems impossible._

 

_The elder stares into his eyes and for a long time he doesn’t speak. And Junhong feels likes there’s a million different feelings, experiences, hidden behind those sad eyes. It takes some time before he speaks again and Junhong is bewildered with the man’s words. “Forget about him,” the man tells him, grabbing his arms slightly, shaking them as he speaks. “You’re scared of telling your Grandpa? The others? Then don’t.” Confusion must’ve made itself apparent in Junhong’s features because Shinbu-nim adds, “Just don’t hide it from Jongup.”_

 

_“I- I can’t t- tell him!” Junhong whisper yells. Eyes enlarged with fear at the mere implication of what the man is saying. “I- I can’t tell Jongup!”_

 

_“You have to, Junhong” the man almost begs him. For a second, Junhong feels like he isn’t speaking to him but to some other boy entirely. Someone from far away. “Trust me. You shouldn’t hide this from him.”_

 

_“H-” Junhong stumbles around his own thoughts. Finding it hard to articulate thoughts to words because he’s so confused and scared and angry at himself all in the same time. “He… He might not even be g- gay. He might get d- disgusted. He might h- hate me!” Junhong shrieks to himself more than to the man sitting beside him. Shaking his head in panic like a maniac. “I can’t t- take the chance.”_

 

_The elder man bites his lips as his grip on Junhong’s shoulders tightens the slightest. “It’s better than him finding out later. Through someone else, Bunhongie!”_

 

_“No!” Junhong yells as he pushes himself away from the man. Stumbling on his feet as he turns away. “I won’t tell him. I can’t. Not yet!”_

 

_Shinbu-nim calls him out to stop but Junhong never hears the rest of the man’s words as he runs out of the church and back home._

 

_The reality of ever letting Jongup know the truth is too daunting. He’s still too young to let his heart get trampled upon like that, he decides, as he runs back home crying._

_Flashback Over_

 

Snorting at the flashback, Junhong shakes his head as he falls into the sofa near the window with the suitcase of letters near his legs. Placing his cocoa on the coffee table next to his arm rest.

 

 _“If only I had known back then”_ he mumbles to himself recalling that day, a month after his conversation with Shinbu-nim, when Jongup had come to his home with a boy their age and had introduced him as his boyfriend. The heartache Junhong had suffered that night still ached sometimes. Somewhere in the dark, dreary corners of his heart.

 

He heaves a sigh and pulls out the next letter from the pile, wondering what else Daehyun would’ve etched into the paper, when another memory stops him from opening the envelope.

 

_Flashback_

_“What do you mean he’s not coming back?” Junhong mumbles as they sit in the playground near Jongup’s home. The boy had come to him in the middle of the night to tell him about Shinbu-nim suddenly leaving for Daegu again and Junhong had run after him to wave the man goodbye. Now, sitting under the lamplight of the playground, swinging lazily in the swings, and the melancholy of it all crashes into Junhong’s consciousness._

 

_Jongup shrugs as he lets his swing move with the wind, letting his head fall into his chest. “He says since I’m eighteen now, he wants to rest a little now. Says he wants to travel with his lover.”_

 

_The younger boy doesn’t know how to react to that because on one hand he wants nothing more than for Shinbu-nim to finally enjoy his life. He’s glad the man is finally living his life now. But on the other hand, he’s sad. The thought of not seeing Shinbu-nim again, for a long time at least, is disheartening. Added to that is the fact that it will only be all the more difficult for Jongup to cope with the change. He knows how close Jongup has been to his uncle since forever._

 

_Stopping the swinging with his feet, Junhong stands up and walks towards Jongup’s stooping figure. He leans down and places his hands on Jongup’s knees, stopping the elder’s swing in the process and stares at Jongup as he speaks, “you should be happy for him, Uppie.” he mutters and the crickets singing in the distance sound like a symphony when coupled with Junhong’s voice. “He gets to be with the one he loves now.”_

_Flashback Over_

 

Something leaves a bad taste in his mouth about the memory, Junhong realises. Something bitter like cough medicine. He can’t put a finger on it, but Junhong just knows he’s missing something. Something huge and obvious, hidden in plain sight.

 

He clenches his eyes and tries to force another fragment of yesteryears somewhere in his memory regarding the man. And sure enough, a pivotal memory squeezes through his mind.

 

_Flashback_

_A nine year old Junhong lies awake in his bed recalling what he had seen at Deok Ajusshi’s bakery today._

 

_Shinbu-nim had been there and Deok Ajusshi had been talking to him rather giddily. Pointing at different tarts and cakes. Guffawing like a madman. Hanging off at the man’s every word. But that’s not what had Junhong up and staring at his ceiling._

 

_He just knows it was something odd._

 

_Something in the way Deok Ajusshi had his arm rested on the curve of Shinbu-nim’s hip. About the way Shinbu-nim leaned his head back on Deok Ajusshi’s shoulder. About the way Deok Ajusshi had tried to kiss Shinbu-nim’s cheeks only to be brushed away with a roll of his eyes, had seemed odd to Junhong._

_Flashback Over_

 

By the time Junhong opens his eyes, he’s all the more confused. Back when he had been barely nine, those moments had seemed so odd but now, Junhong knows that everything fits. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why his hands are trembling.

 

Why is he trembling as if he just stumbled upon the hardest truths of his life? Why is he scared? And most of all, why does he feel like he might’ve solved a mystery despite there not being one in the first place.

 

With his hands still shaking he reaches out his hand to pull his cell phone. Staring at the LCD screen of his phone, he gulps and closes his eyes. Breathing in shakily. When he opens his eyes, he dials a number and he doesn’t even have to wait for five seconds before Jongup’s voice filters through the receiver.

 

“Hey, Junhong” the elder boy mumbles. “What’s up?”

 

Junhong doesn’t even return the greeting before launching into his question.

 

“Shinbu-nim’s name was…” he mumbles. So very sure of himself. “Youngjae, right?”

 

* * *

 

 

Did ya'll figure out who Deok Ajusshi is? Who's Shinbu-nim? I'm sure ya'll already know who Grandpa is, right? What do ya'll think Daehyun named the girl's baby? Are these questions still too hard to answer? *evil medusa laughter [i enjoy your pain SO MUCH] more medusa laughter* Keep trying to solve the mysteries my Sweetness!

By the way ya'll, the story is nearing it's end soon. Just a couple of more chapters and all the loose ends will get tied and there will be a Happy(?)Sad(?) [well some kind of emotional] ending. And I'm dying to know how ya'll are feeling!!!

So please, if you will, check out this [POLL](https://twitter.com/CmiMiu/status/1027454925943529475) on my twitter and let me know how you're feeling for the ending of  _The Diary_ series~~~

Until the next update, see ya'll~

 


	15. The 4629th Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am back from the DEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!! (OTL because I took So Freaking LONG! But! I have a good news!)  
> Good News = I have something special planned for the Finale of this here Fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay Ya’ll, just a heads up! This chapter is gonna be kiiiiinda longer than the previous ones (I might even have to divide it in parts 1 and 2, maybe even part 3). Cuz it’s the official final installment in ‘The Diary’ series. There will be a Bonus Chapter as an Epilogue of sorts after this. But, the story will officially come to end in this here update today.
> 
> So! My faithful Memes! Grab a couple of tissues. Some Nutella and a boyfriend/girlfriend for moral support. Close your bedroom doors and windows and get under a blanket. And let the games… begin

I’m 449-003 Daehakro,

Jongro-gu, Seoul

October 1, 1976

 

Dear Youngjae,

Jonghwan took his first steps today. I cried. A little… A lot actually. I’m just so proud!!!

 

We are going to visit Yongguk today. As soon as I finish posting this letter actually. Yongguk is gonna be so excited to see Jonghwan! Himchan is coming with me. He actually cried when he saw the little guy wobbling about everywhere. I’m so excited to show him around!

 

I ’m happy today, Youngjae. I’m glad I didn’t give Jonghwan up.

 

I wish you could see him, Jae. He resembles his mother so much but his smile… It’s oddly familiar to yours. My mind might be playing games with me but I see a lot of you in Jonghwan.

 

You would’ve loved him.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

 

**Seoul 2018**

Jongup watches Junhong packing his travel bag from the coffee table in his apartment and he doesn’t understand why things have come about in the way they have. Despite the exceedingly bizarre phone call with Junhong the night before Jongup had never expected the boy to come down to his apartment in the wee hours of dawn and beg him to take him to meet his uncle all the way in Daegu. Sure his semester was over, but Jongup had wanted to visit Junhong’s Grandpa’s grave in Busan once the holidays started.

 

Still, seeing how anxiously Junhong is packing his bags and how his hands tremble as they shove clothes into the airbag, he can’t possibly bring himself to say no. And either ways, it’s been months since he’s met his dearest uncle and grandfather, choosing to only communicate via letters or phone calls.  _This is a good thing for you_ he tells himself as he waits for Junhong to finish packing up, shifting his eyes at the two train tickets marked for Daegu.

 

“Junhongie” he whispers to the boy who barely responds with a grumble as he’s too busy packing up what looks like several boxes of letters. “I’ll be in my room packing too, okay? Let me know if you need anything.” Not waiting for an answer, Jongup ambles into his own bedroom with a sense of purpose about him.

 

He’s had his vacation bag ready since his break started two weeks ago. He was really looking forward to going to Busan with Junhong but seeing as there’s a change of venue, Jongup needs to pack one more thing.

 

As he sits down on his bed, staring at the contents of his bedside table, the boy heaves a sigh and grabs the leather clad, brown diary sitting peacefully on top of his laptop.

 

He’s not sure he’s ready to hear it all. He’s not even sure if he even wants to hear their story. It’s too pure in his mind to be tarnished by any details. But Jongup can't help but think of this sudden trip to Daegu as Universe’s way of solving the puzzle for him.

 

He never thought he needed answers to the Diary’s existence, but he’s sure about one thing. His grandfather will have to give me answers regardless of whether he wants to hear them or not.

 

**Suwon 1976**

“How is she now?” Himchan jerks his head towards the young girl, playing with play dough, in Daehyun’s apartment.

 

The younger boy looks at her helplessly pitiful figure, making a mess about her as he heaves a sigh. Looking away from the dismal sight, he bites his lips and turns back to his task of filling the kettle to boil water in, as he mumbles disheartened, “same as ever. I don’t think she’s getting better any time soon.”

 

A grim expression covers Himchan’s face at Daehyun’s hopeless words and he pats the boy’s shoulder encouragingly. Muttering back to him, “things will get better. And I’m always here to help you out, kiddo.”

 

“I know, Channie” Daehyun forces a smile upon his lips as the water in the kettle comes to a boil. He switches off the gas stove and turns to Himchan, who’s too busy playing with the fourteen month old baby in his arms. Clicking his fingers to gain the elder’s attention he points at the milk bottle next to the gas stove. “You’ll need to boil the milk bottle first and then fill it with milk. And then you can feed him the milk once it’s cool enough.”

 

The elder of the two rolls his eyes and expertly rests the baby on his shoulders as he smacks Daehyun on the head, exclaiming “I know! I KNOW! You told me that like five hundred something times already!”

 

“I know, I’m just making sure you understand” Daehyun tries to defend himself but he can’t hide the smile that crosses his features at Himchan’s endearing behaviour. The smile doesn’t last too long though, as he watches the baby in Himchan’s arms yawn sleepily, sucking his thumb as he drools a little over the man’s shoulders. “I’m just scared he’ll forget me once I get back.”

 

Himchan watches Daehyun caress the child’s face with tears brimming his eyes and he brings out his hand to pat the boy’s head as he promises, “I’ll bring him down to the base to meet you every now and then. And you can always send recordings of your voice to him, while you’re at it. I’ll send pictures of him to you every month too.” When Daehyun nods biting his lips, clearly not at all ready to part with the child, Himchan rolls his eyes and tells him to “come on! It’s only two and a half years. Jonghwan is NOT going to forget you, Daehyun!”

 

“I know! I know!” the boy wails, nonetheless continuing to cry as he watches Jonghwan sleep, “I just… I don’t want to leave him.”

 

“I’ll take care of him,” Himchan mutters, holding Daehyun's hand that’s resting on his shoulders, “I promise, Jonghwan” he turns to look at the girl still too busy playing with dough “and his mother will be safe by the time you get back from your enlistment, Daehyun.”

 

A forced smile is all Daehyun finds himself capable of giving the man, but he knows Himchan doesn’t mind.

 

**Seoul 2018**

Jongup tries to make sense of the scene in front of him but he’s at a complete loss at what to make of it. He watches, rather worriedly, as Junhong brings out another box of letters down the staircase and towards the taxi he has rented to take them to the train station. Eyeing the boy in utter confusion he pulls Junhong away from the hood of the car after he’s done shoving all the boxes in.

 

“Okay. I don’t get it” he begins, all too aware of the fact that the taxi driver is probably going to charge him extra for luggage overload. “Did you take up Wonnie Grandpa’s job as the postmaster over the weekend or something? What’s with all these letters?”

 

Junhong looks at him in apparent conflict, as if he’s fighting himself to speak and not at the same time. It doesn’t take him too long to answer though (thanks to the driver angrily honking at them to get in) “it’s a very long story, Yoonie.” He mumbles and it feels almost like dejavu, though Jongup knows he’s never heard that phrase from Junhong in that context ever before. “I’ll tell you once we get there.”

 

Jongup can’t even begin to process the words of the boy before he’s being pushed in the taxi by one Choi Junhong.

 

**Suwon 1977**

He caresses the picture in his hand as he places it into the envelope. Jonghwan is already a two years old and he looks more angelic than Daehyun remembers him to have looked. He can’t wait for his service to be over just to be able to hold the boy in his arms.

 

Daehyun reads and re-reads and re-reads his own letter over and over as he is walking towards the designated post box of the camp he’s assigned to. Taking caution in not dirtying the paper because this time it isn’t the marble paper he always uses. It’s the simple, course, brown paper that the army chief had given to him upon his entry.

 

449-003 Daehakro,

Jongro-gu, Seoul

August 18, 1977

 

Dear Youngjae,  
It’s been six months since my enlistment and I can’t believe how much Jonghwan has grown already. I am so blessed he looks just like his mother. The same brown eyes and double eyelids. And the dimples that could contain all of earth’s waters in them if he tried.

 

I’ve gotten a little too daring with my descriptions, haven’t I? Having a child does that to you. Especially when your child is literally an angel in disguise as a Human. I kid you not, he’s the sweetest child I ever lay my eyes upon.

 

I’m sending a picture for you to see for yourself. Don’t be too alarmed at his cuteness. Though knowing you, you’ll start crying the moment you see him. You softie.

 

How are you, Jae? I heard Youngwon’s wife gave birth to a baby girl a month ago. I had almost forgotten she got pregnant again. I’m sorry for their loss too, Youngjae. Losing your child is something I would never wish upon anyone. Now that I have Jonghwan, I can imagine how much pain Youngwon must’ve suffered through.

 

He was so excited to be a father too. I’m sorry for their loss, Youngjae. I know you never even got to see Junhong before he died. I’m sorry for your loss too.

 

I tried contacting him when I found out but he didn’t seem too eager to talk to me. I don’t blame him after the fiasco that day at your father’s funeral. But he did talk to me. He cried. Apologised. And asked me to never call him again because he didn’t want to be a bad friend and ignore my phone calls but he didn’t want me to stay in contact either.

 

I understand. I don’t blame him.

 

I heard you turned into a Clergyman like your father. Congratulations, Jae. I’m proud of you. I’m sure your father is just as proud.

 

How are you, Jae? Are you happy? Healthy? Talk to me, Youngjae.

 

It’s been years now. I don’t know what you’re scared of anymore. I’ve grown tired of waiting for your reply and every night I tell myself “this is the last time I’ll write to him”. And every morning comes with me going through events in my head that I might be able to include in these letters to you.

 

But now I need you to talk to me, Jae. I need you to be here.

 

I don’t even care if it scares you. Just… just reply.

 

Please.

 

I love you,

Daehyun.

 

 

He heaves a sigh as he folds the letters and places it into the envelope with Jonghwan's photo as he walks towards the post box.

 

**Seoul 2018**

“Why did you suddenly want to meet Uncle Yoo and Grandpa, Junhong?” Jongup asks him after an hour wizzes by on the train. Having ran to catch the train at the last minute both Junhong and Jongup had been sweating wet by the time they found their seats and had their tickets checked out by the TC. Neither had the energy to speak after that and like clockwork they had fallen into cat nap faster than saying goodnight. Now, awake and a little saner, Jongup knows that they can’t postpone this conversation any longer.

 

Junhong turns away from the sky outside his window to look at Jongup as they boy eyes him with questioning gaze. Biting his lips, he wonders where he should start from. What should he tell Jongup? Was he even allowed to tell him all that he knew? A million thoughts ram his brain for purchase as he tries to make sense of his own feelings and fears. As it is, the only thing he comes up with are more questions. So he ignores the inquiry directed towards him in favour of asking a question of his own.

 

“Could… Could you…” he licks his lips nervously, “could you please tell me about Shinbu-nim and your Grandpa, please?”

 

Jongup frowns at the obvious deviation from his own question but he knows that Junhong doesn’t mean anything from that.  _He’s obviously scared of telling me whatever it is and is trying to stall. He’ll tell me eventually._ The older boy tells himself as he nods his head unsure. “What do you want to know about them?”

 

“What do you know about them?”

 

The tone wasn’t challenging, Jongup marked but it sounded as if Junhong was carrying some secret that he knew Jongup didn’t know. Heaving a sigh, Jongup pulls his legs up and tucks them under his feet as he leans his head back on the head rest of the train seats. A smile slips into his lips at the mere thought of his little family. “Well…” he begins “tell me what you know and I’ll match your pace.”

 

Junhong nods his and follows Jongup, pulling his legs up and under his lap. Smiling when the boy opposite to him smirks at him for always copying him. “I know that your Grandfather lived in Daegu and that your parents used to live in Busan before they passed away. And then you were supposed to move in with him but you didn’t want to leave Busan and me.” He smiles at the last part because he clearly remembers the day Jongup had cried under his bed, stomping his feet in denial.

 

Jongup smiled lazily at the boy, letting his head fall limply on the windowsill as he stared at the young boy before him. His eyes hooded and looking lethally at Junhong. A dull heat ignites itself in the pit of his stomach as he thinks back to the day his Grandfather had come down at Junhong’s Grandfather’s home to take him away.

 

_Flashback  
The teardrops on the picture frame in the four year old boy’s hands are still wet and they are beginning to seep into the cracks in through glass top. The edges of the picture inside are already fraying but the small child doesn’t understand that yet. Jongup weeps as he traces his fingers across his parents’ faces, sobbing every time he thinks about no longer being able to see them anymore._

_He brings up his chubby hands to wipe at his tears but even that seems like an impossible feat. Sweater paws that his mother had always tucked away for him, keep getting in his eyes but he doesn’t know how to fold them back. And realising that now he’ll never have anyone help him out with this anymore, only makes him cry more._

_The boy continues weeping inside the tiny closet he’s hiding in. Praying for his parents to be alive again. He doesn’t even realise when the door to the bedroom opens and a set of sturdy arms are embracing him. Pulling the crying boy into their chest as Jongup continues wailing._

_“It’s okay, Jongup. It’s alright, son” Jongup hears someone whisper to him but he doesn’t even know how to stop crying. He misses his mother too much and he can’t seem to stop crying at all. He doesn’t even care that his Grandpa is here, hugging him and crying too, because he just misses his parents so very much._

_So the boy continues crying, for a very long time. And the man who had been holding him doesn’t let go of the small boy until he’s asleep._

_***_

_“I DON’T WANNA GO WITH YOU!” Jongup screams at the man, crying as he holds on to a three year old Junhong tightly in his arms. “I WILL NOT GO WITH YOU GRANWPA!”_

_The old man stares helplessly at the two boys in front of him. His heart hurting at the mere thought of pulling them apart. Jongup has snot running down his nose and his eyes are puffy, red. Junhong, on the other hand, watches cluelessly between the two adults in the room and Jongup, trying to make sense of what even is going on. He doesn’t even understand that Jongup is about to be taken away for good._

_Jongup’s grandfather crouches down on the balls of his feet and runs his fingers through the boy’s hair as he tries to placate the boy. “Jongup, I promise we’ll come visit every holiday. And I promise you won’t even get the time to miss Junhong.” He caresses the boy’s face as he smiles at the boy, “you’ll have so much fun in Daegu, I swear you’ll forget all about Busan!”_

_“NO!” Jongup yells at his father’s father. “I DON’T WANNA LEAVE JUWNKOOK!” He pulls Junhong even closer, nearly choking the boy. “I DON’T WANNA LOSE HIM LIKE MOM AND DAD!”_

_Hearing Jongup yell at the elders, it doesn’t take too long for Junhong to realise what’s going on. An onslaught of tears takes him over as he grabs onto Jongup, whining as he stomps his feet. “Don’t! Don’t take Yoonie… Yoonie… Don’t take Yoonie away!”_

_The two men in the room look at a loss for words as they watch the two kids crying like mad cats. It doesn’t take long for Junhong’s grandfather to step in though. He crouches in front of the crying pair, right beside Jongup’s grandfather, and meets the man’s eyes for just a moment before turning back to the kids._

_“No one’s taking anyone away, okay?” he mutters to the kids and he pulls them in his arms. “Jongup isn’t going away. He’s gonna stay here.”_

_“But- “ Jongup’s grandfather interrupts but is cut short by a hand on his shoulder. He looks at the man’s eyes, aged with time and tiredly looking at him, there is more than just familiarity in his eyes._

_“Let them stay together” Grandpa Wonnie says. “Please.”_

_Flashback Over_

 

“I thought the world would end if they took you away from me too” Jongup recalls to the boy with a sad smile. “I honestly felt like my heart would stop if I went away.”

 

Junhong hums reminiscing the day, “I don’t think I even knew what was going on, to be honest.” A muffled laughter accompanies his confession. “I just knew that you were crying and that Uncle Jonghwan was nowhere to be found. I remember looking for him everywhere while we went back to my room. And even the next morning.”

 

Jongup laughs at the boy’s words and nods his head lazily. “You always did look up to my Dad a lot.”

 

The younger boy shrugs his shoulders and shifts on the seat a little to lie down on it. He stares at the older boy and smirks as he explains, “my own Dad died even before I was born. Mom was three months pregnant when he got enlisted. I was due a month when he passed away.” Melancholy takes over his tone of voice as he continues, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Uncle Jonghwan was the only fatherly figure I had in my life at the time” A mirthless chuckles leaves his lips as he recounts, “I know I was too young to know any better then, but I think for a long time, I thought of him as my own father.”

 

“I like to think he thought of you as a second son too, Junhongie” Jongup whispers back.

 

The boys keep staring at each other. Watching their eyes search each other’s for something significant. A haze settles around them and Jongup would like to think it’s because the weather outside is getting colder, but he knows it’s got nothing to do with the cold outside. And Junhong knows it’s all because of the heated emotions running astray between them.

 

Junhong continues watching Jongup watch him. A lazy smile on his lips. “What about Shinbu-nim?”

 

“What about him?” Jongup wonders out loud. He doesn’t understand why he keeps smiling, but he likes the feeling.

 

“He’s not your Uncle. He’s just Deok Ajusshi’s friend. I know that much.” Junhong smiles as he looks at Jongup impishly, “can you tell me more about their relationship?”

 

Jongup chuckles as he too shifts into a lying position. Turning on his side to rest his head on the seat and watch Junhong from sleepy eyes. “Well,” he mumbles, “that’s a question that has a very complicated answer.”

 

Sleepily, Junhong mumbles back, “don’t tell me now then.” He smiles dopily and trails his hand through Jongup’s hair, muzzling them into shape as he says, “you know when Deok Ajusshi moved to Busan to let you stay with me, I thought he was superman. You had smiled after so many days of constant crying. It felt Uncle Jonghwan came back.”

 

“Honestly?” Jongup mutters, letting his eyes flutter close, “I thought he did too.”

 

 *********

 

**Suwon 1980**

“I… I don’t understand…” Daehyun tries not to stutter his words out but it’s hard for him to even speak, “Why would… why would you say that?”

 

Himchan licks his lips nervously, holding onto his wife’s hand as they look at a confused Daehyun. Sooyoung, Himchan’s wife is the one who finally speaks, “she needs proper medical care, Daehyun. She needs to be looked after properly and she needs a lot of attention.”

 

“I’ll take good care of her!” Daehyun whisper-yells, his frustration taking over his senses. “I  _am_  taking good care of her! I feed her. I change her clothes! I even clean her shit! You can’t just TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!”

 

“Daehyun!” Himchan grabs him before Daehyun can even move and pushes him in his chair as he explains with a whine of despair, “Daehyun, she’s not a doll. She’s a human being!” He struggles to keep Daehyun from going away and bites out with much trouble, “Sooyoung is a nurse, Daehyun! I am doctor! We’ll take good care of her!”

 

Daehyun shakes his head angrily and pushes Himchan away as he gets to his feet, angrily stomping towards a sleeping Jonghwan. “I’m not letting you take her away from me only so you can push her into some mental asylum!”

 

“Daehyun!” The woman yells trying to make the man see sense “Daehyun, she won’t be in an asylum, I promise you that!” She follows the man around as he stomps towards the guest bedroom, “Daehyun, I care for her too. Please listen to me!”

 

“No!” Daehyun yells at Sooyoung, turning around to stare at her. “I can’t let you do this! I only asked Himchan to take her in for three years! Just until I came back from my mandatory enlistment!” he points a daring finger at Himchan who’s standing behind his wife, “I didn’t ask you to be some kind of messiah and try and save her!”

 

Himchan doesn’t even know what makes him do it, but he finds himself punching Daehyun, effectively waking Jonghwan up as Daehyun stumbles back into the room. A chain of reactions follows. Daehyun falls against the guest bedroom door and ends up falling into the bedroom floor. Jonghwan wakes up due to the commotion and at the five year old boy’s crying, his sleeping mother wakes up too. What follows is something Daehyun had been subjected to a lot in the past as the girl starts crying in equal measure as her child.

 

Daehyun watches helplessly for a second before he moves into action. He runs towards Jonghwan, shushing him but when the boy doesn’t stop crying, he moves towards the girl. He’s on the brink of tears, himself, as he uselessly tries to get the mother and son to stop crying, but when nothing works he can’t help the tears from flooding his own eyes.

 

He doesn’t realise as he’s crying for the two to stop, when Sooyoung walks towards the three of them. He doesn’t realise when she crouches down in front of the crying, screaming, girl and starts talking to her in undertones. He’s too busy crying on his own, with Jonghwan cradled into his arms, to realise that Himchan is there beside his wife, helping her calm the girl down.

 

But, he does realise that Himchan and Sooyoung are not wrong. And when he realises that the girl has stopped crying altogether, he decides they might even be completely right.

 

 

449-003 Daehakro,

Jongro-gu, Seoul

February 02, 1980

 

Dear Youngjae,

I decided to let her go. It was hard, Youngjae. It was the hardest decision of my life. I never realised how much I had come to care for her. Neither did I realise how selfish I was being in forcing her with me.

 

She needed to be in proper medical care but I only wanted her by my side. I never realised how much my sanity was linked to hers. Caring for her had become my escape from guilt. I was using her to quench my own guilty conscience. I never should’ve done that.

 

Himchan explained it all to me and every word he had said is so true it makes me wonder how many more delusions I have lived in. I used to think I was taking great care of her but I was simply wasting my time. I wasn’t allowing her to get better. I thought I could take care of both Jonghwan and her but I so wrong, Jae.

 

I had to choose between her and Jonghwan.

 

I couldn’t give Jonghwan up, Jae.

 

I see you in him. I couldn’t give him up.

 

I love you,

Daehyun.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As expected, I had to divide the chapter. So please look forward to the next two updates in the coming week. Don't worry I won't take too long to update~ (Just a week, I promise!!!)  
> Let me know how you liked the chapter in comments~~~ Leave Kudos if you haven't already~


	16. The 8224th Letter

**Busan 2018**

Trepidation beads upon their foreheads as Jongup and Junhong stand in front of the wooden door of the small house. Both are nervous - for different reasons. And both are unaware of the other’s anxiety as they wait for the door to open.

“Who is it?” comes an old man’s voice, seeping through the wood making the shrill voice sound a bit deeper. A smile cracks upon their faces and Jongup knocks on the mahogany once again yelling “it’s me, Grandpa! Jongup!”

They can hear footsteps and laughter as the man makes his way towards the front door and Jongup shakes his head at the man’s ecstasy. And when the door opens, he leaps into the arms of the small man, grinning from ear to ear. Nuzzling his nose into the man’s neck, taking in the scent of home.

“Jongup!” the small man yells as he wraps both his arms around the boy, letting his crutches fall to the ground in happiness. Junhong is quick to pick them up and Jongup is pulled inside the house by his neck, the man still holding him in a side embrace. “Oh! It’s been so very long, my boy!”

Jongup pulls away from the embrace and starts walking inside with the man in tow as he grins, “it’s been three months, Grandpa.” Sparing a glance at Junhong, he ushers him in as they continue into the house.

“Yeah. Yeah” the man waves off his hands, using Jongup as support as he continues towards the living room. “You wouldn’t know a parent’s heart until you become one yourself” he chides playfully, falling limply into the couch near the fireplace. “I miss you so much every day and all I get from you are letters and phone calls.”

“Then why don’t you just buy a smartphone?” Jongup smirks, sitting down near the man’s feet, pulling them into his lap. He starts massaging the man’s feet as he continues, “we can video call if you have a smartphone and it’ll be better quality than the landline too. It’s the internet age, Grandpa.”

The man playfully rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch as he reaches around the arms of the couch to grab something. “Where’s my crutches?” he calls out confused, looking around himself.

Junhong, who had been numbly staring at the scene in front of him (painfully reminded of his own grandfather), shakes from his trance and moves towards the man with the crutches tucked under his arms. He puts them near the man’s arm on one side of the couch and moves back immediately as if he’s scared.

The old man stares at Junhong and smiles at Jongup as he points at him. “And who’s this young man, Jongup?” He looks at Jongup with mirth in his eyes and whispers rather conspicuously, “Boyfriend?”

Junhong’s cheeks turn red at the accusation and he looks at Jongup warily. And Jongup looks at him and smiles easily as he says, “not yet, Grandpa” making all the fluids in Junhong’s gut dance. And Junhong should know it’s a joke but his heart feels on fire at the gaze Jongup is sending his way. Like he means it.

“Well he sure is a fine young man,” Jongup’s grandfather muses staring between the pair, humour in his eyes.

At that, Jongup breaks eye contact with Junhong and snickers at the old man as he continues, “come on, Grandpa” he says, “don’t tell me you didn’t recognise him?” His grandfather looks at Junhong once again. His eyes scrunched in concentration and the humour in them replaced with scrutiny. Junhong continues to fidget under the man’s gaze and continues staring back into the man’s eyes.

“He does look familiar,” the man admits but continues scrutinizing Junhong.

Jongup rolls his eyes and grabs hold of his grandfather’s hands as he looks back at Junhong. “It’s Junhong, Grandpa” he says, giddiness leaking in his tone. “Remember? The boy who used to annoy you all the time at the bakery?”

And like a switch clicking off, realisation shines in the old man’s eyes and he opens his arms wide, edging out of the couch as he calls Junhong in for a hug. “My sweet old boy!” he exclaims as Junhong ducks into the man’s open arms, “Oh! My sweet, sweet child!”

And he smells like home. That’s all Junhong knows. Junhong had always known his hugs to be the warmest in the world (warmer than his own grandfather’s in fact).

The man pulls back from the hug after a while and simply stares at Junhong with soft eyes, patting his cheeks as he wonders out his, “you sure have grown, boy” he chuckles. “Look at you! You’re even taller than Jongup!” He leans in closer to Junhong and makes a show of whispering – not really whispering at all “though, everyone is taller than that boy.”

“Hey!” Jongup yells at the two giggling figures indignantly, making a fist at Junhong threateningly.

“Hey! Hey!” his grandfather yells out playfully, pulling Junhong in a side embrace, “no hitting the cute boy!”

Junhong can see the argument at the tip of Jongup’s tongue and is too busy giggling to notice a presence in the room when a voice filters through their little chaos.

“Daehyun, I swear,” comes a deep voice and Junhong turns to see a skinny, old man slowly walking into the living room, carrying a tote bag of groceries, “one of these days I am going to gauge out my eyeballs because of these teenagers sucking face all the time on the streets and everywhere.”

Jongup moves into action and pulls away the tote bag from the man startling him for a second. Junhong watches as recognition burns in his eyes, and he pulls Jongup into his embrace, patting his back and calling him ‘Moontoes’. When Jongup pulls back, the man starts walking towards the couch when he notices Junhong.

It’s like he just knows, doesn’t even need an introduction. He opens his arms and whispers “oh, Bunhongie”, just like his grandfather always did. And Junhong leaps into the man’s arms, feeling cold in his embrace (just like he did in his own grandfather’s arms) and it’s all too much. Because the man smells like his Grandpa and suddenly Junhong misses him.

And he doesn’t even realise when he starts crying, weeping into his shoulders, as the man continues ruffling his hair, and calling him “Bunhongie”.

**Suwon 1997**

“He is so precious,” Youngjae mutters out loud, holding the boy in his arms and giggling every time the boy sneezes or yawns or makes any kind of movement. He sways with the boy in his arms, sighing happily when the baby boy nuzzles his head into the blanket he’s cocooned in. “Look at him, Wonnie. He’s so cute.”

Youngwon stares at his grandson in the arms of his brother and a tear makes its way down his cheeks as he pulls his brother into a tight embrace. Youngjae tries to keep some distance between them to avoid suffocating the child or anything, but Youngwon seems unabashed as he continues holding him. Somehow, Youngjae manages to pull the baby out from between them and holds the child in once arm awkwardly as he pats Youngwon’s shoulders, “Youngwon, it’s alright” he mumbles, not really sure what the issue even is. “Youngwon?”

The elder man pulls away and stares at the child in Youngjae’s arms, smiles at him then looks up at Youngjae with bloodshot eyes and trembling lips. Youngjae quickly places the sleeping child back into the cot and embraces his brother again, not understanding why he would be crying like that.

“It’s not fair” Youngwon chokes out, words coming out jerkier than they should. “It… It’s… It’s not fair, Youngjae.”

And Youngjae does have an inkling of what is causing this reaction from his brother, but he can’t be sure. He gives one last look at the child in the cot and starts moving Youngwon out of the room.

“Youngwon… I…” Youngjae finds himself at a loss for words and continues, walking Youngwon towards the elder’s bedroom.

“It’s not fair, Youngjae” he mumbles, “it… it’s…” shaking his head as he stutters the words out. “She’s just… just a girl – a child! This isn’t supposed to happen to her. This… This shouldn’t happen to her!”

“Youngwon it’s not fair. I know” Youngjae speaks authoritatively, grabbing his brother’s shoulders as he pushes him back his arm chair. “I know it’s not fair, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, Wonnie. You can’t keep crying like this.”

“But she’s a kid, Youngjae!” Youngwon yells back, quickly losing his cool as he starts sobbing in his hands again. “She should be happy and giddy with her husband right now! This is not what I wanted for her! I want…” he stumbles in his words, driven by emotions as he falls into Youngjae’s chest, weeping like a little boy.

“Youngwon…” Youngjae mumbles painfully, holding his brother’s hands as he watches the fifty-four-year-old man weep like a child. “Youngwon please…”

“She is just a child, Youngjae” Youngwon cuts him off – his voice a whisper. “A nineteen-year-old who lost her husband in war and now a twenty-year-old mother with no support and no one for her child to call a father. Why would this happen to her? What did I do wrong? Why would they punish my daughter for my mistakes, Youngjae?”

“I know” Youngjae whispers as he continues staring at his broken brother. Kneeling in front of his arm chair, his arms over his brother’s lap. “It’s not fair and I am just as angry and sad as you are right now. Jungah doesn’t deserve this pain and I know it’s brutal, what has happened to her.” He runs his fingers calmingly along his brother’s knuckles as he continues, “but sometimes bad things happen to good people. And it’s no one’s fault, Youngwon. You can’t blame yourself for Minhyuk’s death or for Misoo going insane after Junhong’s death. You should not blame yourself for happened to Jungah either.”

Youngwon shakes his head as Youngjae continues to speak, looking at him with wide eyes. “It is my fault, Youngjae” he whispers and when Youngjae shakes his head, ready to deny his words, he cuts him off before he can even say anything. “It’s my punishment, Youngjae. Don’t you see? It’s karma.”

“No, Youngwon,” Youngjae painfully exclaims, “no it’s not. It’s just fate and nothing else. It is not punishment, Youngwon.”

“But it is, Jae!” Youngwon nods his head eagerly, as if hit by an epiphany. “It’s all my fault! It’s all because of me that my daughter, her husband, her son, my wife!” he yells as he falls back into the armchair, speaking to himself now as he continues saying “it’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.”

And it pains Youngjae, more than anything, to look at Youngwon like this. Broken beyond repair and so helpless. So, he gets to his feet and pulls off the covers from his brother bed, bringing them to Youngwon. He places the covers over Youngwon, who’s now staring into the fire, muttering “it’s all my fault” over and over again. Sparing a last glance at the sad picture of his brother, he moves away. Exiting the room with a sigh and tears streaming down his face.

 

**Busan 2018**

“Jongup?” Daehyun calls the boy out when he sees him lingering in the threshold of his bedroom. When the boy merely looks at him with a smile, the old man smiles and beckons him over with a lazy wave of his hand. “Come on in, boy! You know what they say about people standing under thresholds.”

 

Jongup steps in and takes in the man’s bedroom, that is divided into two halves. It is a rather large size for a room but Jongup reckons that it’s just about right to house two people. He sits on the king size bed and it’s so obvious that two people live in the bedroom with the way the night tables are arranged.

 

Daehyun’s side, at least what Jongup thinks is Daehyun’s side, is laden with several novels, war documentary DVDs that Jongup had bought for him last year. There’s an age old Nokia and a tiny phone book in the corner and with the page that is open, Jongup can tell the last person Daehyun had called was Himchan. Candies of different colours and sizes sit caged inside a glass bottle near the end of the already crowded table. A small, handheld radio and a few pills. There’s also a picture of Jongup’s grandmother next to Youngjae in a frame.

 

Youngjae’s side, comparatively, is more simple. A bible and a rosary sitting in the center and his glasses propped on top. A few pill bottles and a night lamp is all Youngjae claims as his own.

 

The boy moves his eyes away from the bedside tables to scrutinise other details of the bedroom. A rocking chair, Daehyun's, sits near the fireplace with a prayer corner for Youngjae in the opposite wall. There’s a telescope next to the chair that Jongup knows is Daehyun’s property and a couch with a throw and pillows across from it that Youngjae had bought for himself five years ago.

 

And it’s all too much because his Grandpa, who’s not even his actual grandfather, is so strong. Because he realises the amount of sacrifice his grandfather is capable of and it’s a staggering discovery. Because he realises that Park Daehyun was a man capable of so much more yet here he is living alone with his best friend. No wife or children to call his own and no family to fall back to. And Jongup realises, after so many years, that Daehyun and Youngjae aren’t the married couple like he’d thought they were.

 

And he realises that he’s not all that disappointed by the discovery as he had thought he’d be.

 

“Jongup” Daehyun’s voice breaks through his inner monologue and he turns to the old man with a jerk. His grandfather smirks at him and flicks his forehead as he speaks, “if I had known you’d be zoning out on me I would’ve suggested you stay in the kitchen with Youngjae, boy.”

 

Jongup tries to speak but words get lodged into his throat and he can’t. The weight of the diary pressed against his ribs is so light that it’s wearing him down. And Daehyun is no fool to that. He’s known Jongup since he was born. Known his father much longer. So really, he doesn’t need much indication of something being wrong.

 

“You can talk me to, Moonie” Daehyun peers at him. Ducking his head a little to see his eyes that have been downcast for a while now. “Is something wrong?”

 

And Jongup doesn’t have any words to explain what is wrong and how much of it is right, so he simply looks up at his grandfather. Proudly and with admiration. And he reaches into his his duffle bag that he’d brought in with him to bring out the Diary that has kept him awake for so many long nights.

 

To say that Daehyun is surprised would be an understatement of the greatest order. The leather clad book sitting in Jongup’s lap, thick and tightly wound, not a scratch on it, is beckoning him. Like an old friend calling him. He doesn’t even try to stop the tears that fill his eyes as he pulls the book into his own lap. He’d forgotten how heavy it was and the fact alone makes him weep all the more.

 

Because it holds so many of Youngjae’s emotions. So many feelings and so much pain. Years worth of pages locked inside the Diary that has literally shaped his life into what it is right now. So many years worth of memories and sorrows. It’s not just a journal that Youngjae had written in his school days. It’s a bible that Daehyun had worshipped during his adulthood.

 

Daehyun looks up from the book with tears brimming down his face and lips trembling. He looks at Jongup for an answer.  _Where did you find it? How did you find it? Who gave it to you? Since when have you had it? Why didn’t you bring it to me sooner? Is this what this sudden visit is about?_ So many such questions flood his brain like acid. He’s aching to ask but all his lips manage to utter out is a simple query, “did you read it?”

 

And really, that’s the most important question of all, Daehyun realises.

 

The boy stares at his old grandfather and wonders exactly what the man must be feeling right now.  _Is he scared? Or worried? Or angry? Sad?_ Jongup nods his head and mutters a quiet “yes” as he continues to study his grandfather’s expressions.

 

And sure enough, Daehyun’s face contorts into one of worry. But only for the shortest of while. The worry is soon replaced with a bittersweet smile. And it makes Jongup, once again, wonder what exactly is going on in his Grandpa’s mind. He doesn’t have to think much, however, because that’s when Daehyun starts speaking.

 

“Nineteen year old Youngjae had a way with words, huh?” Daehyun muses, shaking his head as he opens the book. Tracing his fingers shakily over the first few words in the book. Eyes glossing over every cursive word with desperation. “Back then, I remember wondering why he ever chose to become a priest when he could’ve easily become a poet. Or a writer.”

 

Incapable of replying, Jongup continues to stare at the old man. Watching him chuckle at something Youngjae had written about the school librarian. Impulse drives him to stutter out a question that had been lodged into his lungs ever since he realised that the Diary belonged to his grandfather (more precisely, his grandfather’s best friend). But rather than ask, Jongup finds himself stating his query, “you’re not gay”.

 

It’s a mere whisper, but Daehyun feels like Jongup had yelled the words at him. He jerks his head up and stares at Jongup, breathing hard. Being the stubborn boy he is, Jongup doesn’t bat an eye and continues matching eyes with his Grandpa. Looking at him with an inkling of knowledge. It takes a while before Daehyun can school his expressions into something other than shock and he closes his eyes heaving a deep sigh.

 

Releasing a deep breath, Daehyun slowly opens his eyes and turns to Jongup with a smile. Sorrow apparent on his face, he shakes his head and whispers “no”.

 

And it breaks Jongup’s heart all the more to think that Daehyun is sorry for not being gay. For not being different. For not being something that’s supposed to define the nature of his relationship with the man he lives with. Once again, Jongup is reminded how kind and selfless Daehyun is and he can’t help himself from speaking.

 

“How can you…” he licks his lips. Because he’s impulsive when it comes to emotions and expressing himself but he doesn’t want to mess this up. He doesn’t want his lack of sense of communication to cause any misunderstanding between him and his grandfather. “You could’ve had a completely different life.” He chooses to stay, watching how the colours in Daehyun’s face fade with every second that pass between them in silence.

 

“What do you mean, Jongup?”

 

Driven by his emotions now, Jongup edges closer to his grandfather and holds his hands as he continues, “you could’ve married. Had kids, lived a happy, fruitful life.” He licks his lips (a nervous habit for when he’s too agitated), “you could’ve stayed in Seoul. Have a family to support you. You had friends there who respected you. You could’ve had a good job. A bigger house. A better social status, right now, if you hadn’t come back Grandpa.”

 

Jongup watches realisation shine in Daehyun’s eyes at his words and he think he sees relief in them too. Relief that Jongup doesn’t hate him for his sexuality.

 

“Why did you choose this life, Grandpa?” Jongup whispers, tears shining in his eyes, “Why would you choose to leave your family in Suwon and move all the way to Busan with your best friend who you know has loved you for ever? Why would you choose to pretend that you’re in love with him and live with him as a couple when you could’ve married and had kids of your own instead of raising an orphan and his son? What makes you want to wake up to Uncle Kim everyday and kiss him goodmorning or goodnight?” The boy shakes his head, letting a few tears fall as he ducks his head, “I don’t understand how you could sacrifice so much.”

 

“It’s not a sacrifice, Jongup,” Daehyun says quietly, patting the boy’s knuckles that have turned white. Jongup looks at Daehyun’s hand holding his and realises that somewhere between his speech, his hands had turned into fists.

 

“It  _is_ a sacrifice, Grandpa” Jongup insists, lips trembling as he tries to not cry. “You’ve given up so much for Uncle Kim and I can understand you leaving your home for him because you felt guilty for not returning his feelings. But, leaving your life in his hands?” He gapes at the old man, “I don’t understand how you could do that?”

 

Daehyun shakes his head lazily and gulps a deep breath, turning his head up to stare at the ceiling. Though, Jongup knows it’s all an attempt to stop his tears from further marring his face. “I was in love with Youngjae, Jongup. I still very much am.”

 

His grandson shakes his head and seems like an argument is just waiting to spill out of his tongue when Daehyun continues, “it’s not love, Grandpa. Jongup insists. It’s guilt!”

 

“Tell me, Jongup” Daehyun cuts him off before he can speak again. “What does it mean to love someone, according to you?”

Jongup stares at the man without a word to say and Daehyun smiles at him pointedly. Edging him to say something. But now that Jongup thinks about it, he doesn’t really know what love is. He’d always thought his mom and dad had loved each other. And Junhong’s grandmother and grandfather always did say they loved each other. But then that’s not the only kind of love he knows. He knows a mother’s love for her child. A teacher’s love for her student. An artist’s love for his art. He knows all those feelings, being love too. Heck! He knows he loves Junhong too!

 

But he knows the kind of love he’s talking about here is different. The kind of love Daehyun is talking about is different.

 

“But…” Jongup begins, defeated “but loving someone and being in love with someone is different, Grandpa”. He pleads. “Love alone shouldn't make you do these things for someone.”

 

“And who says I’m not in love with Youngjae?” Daehyun shoots back to which Jongup can only reply with, “you’re not gay though, Grandpa.” Weakly and sadly.

 

And Daehyun smiles at him. A warm, sunny smile. Like he’s going to tell Jongup some big secret. He leans in closer and Jongup follows suit, and he speaks as if he’s talking about something entirely profound but miniscule.

 

“When you’re in love with someone, you want to wake up to them in the morning and say goodnight to them before bed.” Daehyun begins, a giddy smile on his face. “You wanna provide for them and you wanna go on long walks with them. And you imagine going places with them and sharing tea with them.”

 

He stops and gauges Jongup’s reaction before pinching his nose playfully and continues, “sometimes, you fight them but you can never be mad at them for more than a few hours. And when they fall sick, you get agitated and worried and annoyed at mother nature for letting them get ill. And just want to protect them and laugh with them and be happy with them. You see your future with them.”

 

Jongup’s forehead creases into understanding as he nods for Daehyun to continue and the old man chuckles, ruffling the boy’s hair. “And you don’t need physical intimacy if you want to be in love. Being in love isn’t about sexual tension, believe it or not, boy. Intimacy  _is_ important. I won’t deny that.” Daehyun explain as he turns to the book in his lap. Excitement bubbling inside him at the prospect of reading it once again. “But you know what’s more intimate than kissing or “sucking face” as your Uncle likes to put it?” Jongup shakes his head a ‘no’ and Daehyun smiles as he tells him, “walking together in the first snow. And sharing a jacket because your partner forgot his. And maybe a peck on the forehead.”

 

Daehyun looks back up at him at that and he finds Jongup dopily smiling at him and he can’t help himself from laughing out loud at the boys drunked out expression. Soon, Jongup starts laughing too and Daehyun wonders how come Youngjae hasn’t heard them yet - he usually calls out his name whenever Daehyun has come back from a walk just to make sure it’s Daehyun and not some burglar (despite Daehyun telling him several times that they live in a safe neighbourhood). But he can’t be bothered by that yet.

 

He watches Jongup laugh and he feels pride. For having raised the boy well and handsome just like his father and his heart aches for Jonghwan. He mellows down and holds Jongup’s hand in his own once again to gain his attention before speaking, “I  _am_ in love with Youngjae, Moonie. I do love him. And I have never felt the need for a family or friends or a better career. I like it here. And I couldn't be more proud to have raised you and your father as my own.” He caresses Jongup’s cheeks as he smiles, “it was never a choice, Jongup. I would’ve always chosen Youngjae. It wasn’t guilt. It was love. And sex, or lack of it, doesn’t define love, Jongup. It shouldn’t.”

 

Slowly nodding his head along with his grandfather’s words, Jongup wonders out loud, “but you told me you found Uncle Kim only a couple of years ago. What about before then?” He looks eagerly at his Grandpa, “you must’ve had someone before then? Someone you loved or at least liked enough to want to settle or at least be intimate with?”

 

Daehyun smiles fondly at the question and nods his head pulling Jongup in a side hug, “I did. I did fall in love with a girl. But,” he looks at Jongup, “it didn’t ever work out.”

 

Humming in understand, Jongup nods his head as he mumbles, “and then you waited.”

 

“That’s right” Daehyun admits, half with pride and half in melancholy. “And then I wait for thirty years.”

 

“You know,” Jongup begins, turning to his old grandfather with a crack in his lips, “everytime I read all those little notes you left in the Diary, I used to think you could become a writer yourself. I mean, you could at least write a book of letters with all those little notes of yours.”

 

Daehyun chuckles at his grandson’s words and shakes his head, pushing him up and out of the room. His lips turning upside down for a brief moment at the mention of letters.

 

 

* * *

 

 

449-003 Daehakro,

Jongro-gu, Seoul

December 06, 1989

 

Dear Youngjae,

Seungi turned fourteen today. I bought him a scooter, he had been asking for since forever. I don’t think I’m ever gonna let him ride it all alone though. That boy is destructive.

 

It’ll be your birthday soon too. I’m thinking of making coconut cake this year. Himchan thinks it’ll be disgusting so let’s hope he won’t eat it all this year. And Jonghwan is so happy with the scooter, I doubt he’ll mind eating a mud cake even.

 

I will be visiting Suwon next week. Need to pick a few things from my old house.

 

I’m moving to Busan, Jae. So my address is no longer going to be the one up there.

As soon as things get settled, I’ll send you my new address in Busan.

 

Till then, I hope you’ll reply this time at least.

I’ll write again after a week.

 

I love you,

Daehyun

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Busan 2018**

Youngjae looks up from the kettle that’s boiling water for hot chocolate for Jongup and Junhong when he hears a knock on the kitchen doors. He turns to see Junhong standing shyly at the doorstep, peaking in like a little boy. Smiling warmly at the boy, Youngjae ushers him in, turning back to the kettle to make sure the water doesn’t boil over.

“I’m making cocoa, Bunhongie” he snickers, reaching up to pull out a tray full of different kinds of hot chocolate mixes from the cupboard above. He points at the mixes and grins at Junhong, pulling him closer by the arm when the boy doesn’t move, “come on. Choose whichever one you like. Oh! Choose one for Jongup too.”

Junhong slowly, mechanically, pulls out the almond mix for himself and contemplates what flavour to choose for Jongup before reaching for the marshmallows and hazelnut mix. Youngjae beams at him, nodding his head towards the cupboard next to the sink and Junhong doesn’t need verbal instructions to know that Youngjae is asking him to pull out coffee mugs for himself and Jongup. It’s an odd familiarity with which he moves around the kitchen. Like his limbs know their way around the place. But Junhong has never been here before. He hasn’t even heard from Youngjae for more than three years now.

And when he opens the cups cupboard, he chokes up. Inside, sitting side by side, are two poorly made coffee mugs. Purple and Red. Haphazardly shaped with sketches of a skull and a crooked Iron Man. Coloured out of lines and signed indecipherably. Moontoes and Jello.

He pulls them out with a shaky breath and turns to Youngjae, who he finds watching him. Worry etched into his features at Junhong’s behaviour. Junhong walks shakily towards the old man and places the mugs near the kettle on the counter before turning back to the man who’s looking at him worriedly. The boy doesn’t ask for permission before letting his head fall into his Shinbu-nim’s chest. Crying quietly.

Youngjae doesn’t ask before embracing him either. Patting his back slowly as he sways with Junhong in his embrace. Something his grandfather always did whenever Junhong was sad. Or worried. They continue swaying in the middle of the kitchen. Unbothered by the solitude. And Junhong feels safe. After three months of saying goodbye to his Grandpa, he feels safe again.

“You were his brother” the boy whispers. And he expects Youngjae to pull him back and stare at him. Jerk away and deny the fact. Or at least some kind of shock or embarrassment. But no. Youngjae simply heaves a sigh and tightens the hold around Junhong. As if he was expecting that.

When they finally pull apart, Youngjae rides his fingers through Junhong’s hair and pulls a face before speaking. “Youngwon…” he begins, looking completely lost but ready to spill all the same. “Youngwon hurt me, Junhong.”

“I know…” Junhong mumbles, ducking his head in shame on behalf of his grandfather.

“He told me Daehyun never asked after me. Told me that Daehyun hated me.” Youngjae heaves a sigh as he continues, “You must already know what happened. He must’ve told you right?” When Junhong does no more than whimper and nod, he continues patting the boy’s shoulders. “He made me think I was a sinner and an abomination for so many years, Junhong. You have to understand why I would cut off contact.”

Junhong can’t bring himself to speak. Because he knows Youngjae is telling the truth. He’s read Daehyun’s feelings through the Letters enough times to understand how much Youngjae must’ve hate, doubted and pitied himself waiting for any word from his best friend. His love. So, he continues staring at his feet, glaring at his toes. Playing with the hem of his T-Shirt.

Youngjae chuckles and Junhong peaks to look at the man shaking his head to him as he turns away from him towards the mugs. “But I’ve forgiven him, Bunhongie.” He says, “I mean, he never even told me that Daehyun had written me a letter soon after I had moved away, but I  _have_ forgiven him.” Having filled the mugs with cocoa, Youngjae turns to Junhong, pushing Junhong’s mug towards him. “So, you don’t have to apologise on his behalf.”

But Junhong doesn’t reply. Doesn’t reach out for the coffee cup. Because he’s busy replaying the man’s words just now. Because he’s scared he’s heard another lie that his grandfather had said to Youngjae.

_Daehyun had written me a letter soon after I had moved away._

_Daehyun had written me a letter._

_A letter._

Junhong grips the man’s arm, taking away the coffee mug and placing it harshly on the countertop before pulling the man behind him towards the guest room where he is boarding for the week. His mind in overdrive. Heart erratic. Eyes determined.

Youngjae follows the boy confused as he enters his bedroom and watches Junhong sift around his airbag for a key before picking up one of his many suitcases from the ground. There’s anger in Junhong’s features and Youngjae would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned.

The boy clicks the lock open and looks at the old man one last time before heaving a sigh. Youngjae wonders what exactly it might be that Junhong is so desperate to show him, but he waits. He doesn’t push the boy to hurry up. But there’s a pit in his stomach that keeps digging deeper. A hollowness in his lungs that tastes ominous.

“I’m sorry, Shinbu-nim” Junhong mutters as he starts opening the suitcase zip, still looking at Youngjae with sadness in his eyes. “Grandpa… Grandpa wasn’t being fair even when he apologising to you.”

The words scare Youngjae, but he doesn’t know why. He’s terrified of what the suitcase holds despite not knowing what’s in it. He really wishes Daehyun was with him right now and not out with Jongup to grab dinner for him and the boys. He bites his lips as he watches Junhong heave a sigh. And his breath stops when Junhong lifts the suitcase cover.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Oooookay Guys! Here’s the deal! The next chapter is gonna be the epilogue and then there’s gonna be a *drum roll* BONUS CHAPTER!  
  
Yes. I enjoy writing Bonus Chapters~  
  
Anyways, so here’s the deal! Imma ask y’all a question and if you answer correctly, you’re gonna get that Bonus Chapter a day after I post the Epilogue.  
If! (However) You don’t answer correctly (or choose to not answer at all). Y’all are gonna have to wait forever for Bonus Chapter, mainly because I’m a lazy ass.  
  
So here’s the Question:  
Who was the woman who Daehyun mentioned in this chapter when he said he’d already fallen in love once and it didn’t work out?  
  
Rules: you MUST tell me clearly who the woman is. You MUST describe her (a little at least). You MUST give me a reason for why you think that is. (It would reeeeeaaaaaally help if you could quote a scene of her with him but it’s not necessary).  
  
It’s just three golden rules, y’all.  
  
As usual, you can reach me through my email ([mayumaya.96@gmail.com](mailto:mayumaya.96@gmail.com)) or my Twitter ([@cmimiu](https://twitter.com/cmimiu)) or Instagram ([@cmimiu](https://www.instagram.com/cmimiu/)) or Tumblr ([cmimiu.tumblr.com](http://cmimiu.tumblr.com/))  
  
PS: I know this authors note is turning REALLY long but! Please keep in mind that you only get ONE chance so please wait for the next chapter before you give me your answers.

 


	17. The 10,509th Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO IS CRYING!?  
> I AM BACK BITCHES!!!!! (I mean, ahem... I mean everyone~~~)  
> Anyway! Just one more chapter to go before I end this journey! I am OFFICIALLY Weeping ya'll!

**Busan 1997**

Youngjae rubs his hands fervently, failing to fight off the cold as he waits in the soju tent. He keeps looking out through the plastic wrap windows, eyes darting every time he thinks he sees Daehyun. Having downed a few glasses of soju, he’s buzzed already (he’d always been a lightweight after all).

As he waits, relentlessly watching his wrist watching tick seconds away, he thinks back to the morning he’d left Youngwon’s house. Two days ago. After a less than happy farewell.

_Flashback_

_“Youngjae,” Youngwon trembles with the effort to not cry as he holds Youngjae's hand and begs him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry but please. Please, I… i… I need you right now. You can’t just leave me, please!”_

_Youngjae snatches his hand out of the grip of his brother’s and takes one look at a weeping Junhong in his niece’s hands and walks out the door. Leaving Youngwon in his knees, crying._

_Flashback Over_

A knock on his table makes him shake out from the reverie and he sees the hand on the table in front of him. He sees it and his lungs forget how to function for slightest of seconds. Because he’s scared. He’s scared because it’s Daehyun.

Shaky breath and trembling lips adorn his features as he looks up and is greeted by a warm smile. A young man, no more than twenty five he would guess, pears at him with an inquisitive eye, carrying a child in his right arm and pulling a chair with his left. “You must be Yoo Youngjae… right?” Youngjae dumbly nods his head and allows the man to order a platter of soondae and three bowls of samgaytan. “Dad’s freaking out outside so I decided to just come in and order some food first.

“Da… Dad?” Youngjae wonders out loud and the man in front of chuckles loudly, rocking the kid in his arms as he nods giddly.

“Yep!” the young man laughs, almost falling back in his seat. Something in his manners seeming so eerily familiar. “Jung Daehyun?” he snickers, eyes shining with mirth. “He’s my Dad. And he’s really nervous he finally gets to meet you tonight.”

“Daehyun... Dae… Daehyun’s here?” Youngjae tries craning his neck to look at the tent entrance for the man he’d been waiting for for the past two hours.

The young man in front of him, Daehyun’s son, shakes his hand smirking as he tells him to “don’t bother. He’s been dusting his sweater since he left home. I’m pretty sure he’s not coming in for another fifteen or so minutes for sure.”

The older man nods his head and eyes the younger one and the child in his arms before asking, “you… you’re his son? And this is…” he points of at the child in Jonghwan’s arm and ends up smiling unconsciously.

Jonghwan looks at the child in his embrace and smiles warmly at the kid as he nods and looks back at Youngjae, “this here is Jongup.” Jonghwan rocks the boy in his arms, making him giggle an eye smile. “My son.”

“May I?” Youngjae gestures towards Jongup with open arms and Jonghwan happily obliges. “How old is he?” He asks the man, swaying the child like he used to with Junhong.

“He’s one” a voice speaks out. And Youngjae’s pupils shake in their sockets as he continues to stare at the table in front of him. He can barely hear Jonghwan call of ‘Dad’ but he’s knocked out senseless by the mere voice of the man he’d come to meet.

“Let me take him from you, Uncle Yoo” Jonghwan says as he pulls Jongup out of his embrace and Youngjae is left grappling onto the table cloth instead.

He can see Daehyun move beside him and take Jonghwan’s seat from his peripheral vision. He can hear Daehyun’s breaths coming in shorts. Can sense the tension between them thicken by the second. And he has to compel every nerve ending in his body to cooperate. But finally, excruciatingly gradually, Youngjae looks up.

Daehyun has grown old. He has grey hair and his eyes have crow feet. Daehyun’s hands have wrinkles and his voice has turned deeper than what he remembers from thirty five years ago. But he’s still the Daehyun he remembers. Down to the eye smile. The warm eyes. And the handsome visage.

And Youngjae. Gosh! Youngjae has aged for days. All his hair has turned grey and his eyes are drooping. And his fingers, once sinewy are bent at an angle. But he’s still exhaustingly beautiful. His box smile has just turned better with age. And he wears glasses that make him look all the more ravishing now. Age sure has done him well.

And just looking at each other is enough to make the two remember all those days during their childhood. All those playground hangouts. And coffee shop visits. Homework dates and vocal lessons. Their fight. Youngjae leaving. Their waiting.

Jonghwan watches them from a distance as they cry and hug and laugh and practically forget they’re surrounded by people. He watches them forget the world around them and talk for hours. And Jongup, his head resting on Jonghwan’s shoulder, watches his future guardians getting back together. Unable to understand that today is one of his life’s biggest day.

Because today is the day his Uncle Yoo met his Grandpa.

 

 

**Suwon 2009**

“I don’t want any more discussion on this topic, Jongup!” Daehyun yells at the boy uncharacteristically. “You are not going out to meet Junhong this week! He’s grounded and I don’t want you butting into Youngwon’s punishment!”

Jongup folds his arms across his chest and puts on a petulant pout on his face as he shoots back, “but Wonnie Grandpa is grounding him for the dumbest, fucking reason ever!”

“Jongup!” Youngjae screams back at the boy, scandalously. “What have I told you about using that word or any variation of it?!”

The fourteen year old just rolls his eyes and scoffs at the elder. His eyes turning into slits as he sneers at his Grandfather. “I will not have you rolling your eyes at your Uncle, Boy!” Daehyun chides the boy, pulling at his ears fiercely.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Jongup yells out again, earning a fist over his head and he pulls back angrily from the elder, running away and into his bedroom. Yelling as he goes, “I will meet Junhong no matter what happens!”

“We’ll see, you peepsqueak!” Daehyun yells back. Already prepared for the boy climbing out his bedroom window as soon as the lights turn off.

*

“You’re being silly,” Youngjae chides the man pacing anxiously in front of him, arms folded on his chest and a look of utter judgment on his face. Standing out on the porch, with a belt in his hand, Daehyun chooses to ignore the shaking head being directed at him.

“Nonsense!” Daehyun snickers, “if he tries running out his bedroom window, he’ll have to come out the porch. And I’ll nab that brat on his way out!” The man adds a maniacal laugh at the end of his sentence, making Youngjae roll his eyes at him.

“You do realise that if he wanted to run away, he’d just climb out of his window and go through the back door, right?”

Daehyun stops pacing for a second and stares at Youngjae comically. And had Daehyun not been so serious about keeping Jongup away from Junhong for the week, he would’ve laughed at his face.

“How long ago did he tell you he was gonna go to sleep exactly?” Daehyun asks, already moving towards the back of house, towards Jongup’s room to the second floor.

Youngjae tiredly follows his partner towards the back of the house and sure enough, there’s a rope made of clothes hanging out Jongup’s bedroom window. He chooses to ignore Daehyun’s question instead adding, “he’s probably already at Junhong’s place, Daehyun.”

At seeing Daehyun fuming, chest heaving and eyes dark with anger, Youngjae pats the man’s shoulder and adds, “relax. You can always punish him when he comes back.” When Daehyun doesn’t look back at him, instead continues to stare at the open window, he further adds, “Daehyun? It’s okay, kids do this all the time.”

Daehyun still doesn’t reply back, and Youngjae frowns looking back up at the window again to see a figure moving in the window and then closing it.

“Huh?” Youngjae softly hums, letting a smile slip onto his lips. “Guess we were wrong, huh?”

“That’s not Jongup” comes Daehyun’s reply and Youngjae frowns at the man’s words. Daehyun, on the other hand, choose to huff a sigh and walk back into their home, shoulder scrunched and a tiredness surrounding him. The younger man follows his partner with a worried expression and wonders why Daehyun isn’t worried like he is that instead of Jongup there’s a stranger in the boy’s room.

And when Daehyun doesn’t make to speak, he asks the man instead, “why aren’t you doing anything then?!” He quickly moves towards Jongup’s bedroom, but he stops short.

Because through the bedroom door he can silent sobs that he almost surely knows aren’t from Jongup. He is just about to open the door when Daehyun places a hand over his shoulders and Youngjae turns to him in alarm. Ready to spill the beans on the boy but Daehyun gets to him first.

“Junhong’s in there” he states and starts pulling Youngjae back and when the younger man resists, Daehyun pulls him once more, as if to tell him to let it be. “It’s Junhong’s fault. He’s the one who came here. Youngwon can’t blame Jongup. I won’t allow him to.”

Youngjae bites his lips as he nods his head morosely and starts walking towards their bedroom. And as he walks he wonders just what his brother might actually think. He’ll probably hate Jongup for turning Junhong into a misbehaving and sly kid. And he’ll probably hate Youngjae for raising him that way.

_“What if he thinks Jongup is like this because I raised him? What if I’m the reason he’s so rude all the time? Maybe I’m not strict enough. Maybe I should just give up on trying to be normal. Maybe Daehyun hates me too, just like Youngwon and Jongup do for being such a fag!”_

Thoughts that he knows are nothing but lies swarm his mind and Youngjae feels his airways choking up. And he tries to hide it because he doesn’t want to give Daehyun more reasons to hate him.

But Daehyun sees it. He sees right through him. He stops Youngjae just as they reach the bed.

And he kisses the man.

No warning and no apology in his manners. He leans on the tip of his toes and presses his lips lightly against Youngjae’s.

And suddenly Youngjae’s mind is empty as a blank slate. He stares at Daehyun as the elder pulls back. And he’s only slightly aware of the fact that the man’s hands are sitting gently on his hips. His head angled towards him. His eyes remorseless.

“Why’d you…” Youngjae tries to form a query of sorts but his mind isn’t working.

So Daehyun completes the question instead, “why’d I kiss you?” When Youngjae nods his head rather stupidly, Daehyun chuckles pulling the man into bed with him. “You were thinking all sorts of bad things, I wasn’t going to let you dwell on those thoughts.”

“Daehyun…” Youngjae whispers as the man switches the bedside light off and lies across him. “You don’t have to do these things, Daehyun.” He says. Because he knows Daehyun isn’t gay and that the kiss that means the world to him is just like any other hug between them to Daehyun.

“I kissed you because I wanted to, Jae” Daehyun said irritated. “Why can’t you just accept my feelings and intimacy? Why can’t you just let me love you the way I want to?!”

“I don’t want to fight, Daehyun” Youngjae tiredly replies but he already knows that an argument is sitting at the tip of Daehyun’s lips, ready to attack him.

“No!” Daehyun shoots back sitting up in bed and affectively pulling Youngjae up with him. “No, you always say that, and we never get to discuss this matter! Not today!”

Youngjae sighs, pressing his knuckles into his forehead and whimpers out helplessly, “Daehyun please. I’m too tired and this discussion doesn’t have an end.”

“Why are you so scared of this?” Daehyun presses on, anger so vivid in his eyes that Youngjae can feel the burn in his bones. “Why can’t you just accept that fact that I DO love you and whatever I do is BECAUSE I love you?!” He huffs annoyed and slams his fists on the bed covers angrily as he continues yelling at the man. “It’s been more than twelve years now and you’re still so insecure and scared of everything thing I do and everytime I so much as touch you!”

“Because!” Youngjae screams by. Not caring that his voice, heavier than Daehyun, is echoing all over the house. “Because you’re not gay! Because that kiss was not out of love but out of pity! Because any day now you could wake up and realise that you could STILL do so much better than me and you’ll let me go! Because I’m gay and I love you too much to let anything between us stay platonic!”

Youngjae weeps as he continues adding reasons, every choked sob punctuating another reason. He cries and Daehyun watched helplessly because what can he possibly say to that. What could he possibly say to make Youngjae believe that he’s never leaving. That he truly, genuinely loves him.

After a short while passes away, Daehyun pulls the crying man into his embrace and Youngjae falls into his arms limply like a tattered old rag doll. “Jae…” he murmurs, letting his fingers trail lazy trails on the nape of his friends neck. “Jae, I know you’re scared but believe me I DO love you. I wouldn’t have suggested we live together that day we met if I didn’t. And I know you’re scared I’ll grow tired of you but that’s not gonna happen, Jae.”

“But you can't just start loving men at will, Daehyun.” Youngjae mumbles into his chest before pulling back and staring into his eyes, “when you kissed me just now, tell me what you felt.”

Daehyun hesitates for a second, wondering if he should lie or maybe make an elaborate declaration or something, but in the end he decides to keep it simple and speak the truth. “It felt nice. It felt fine.”

With a despondent shake of his head, Youngjae bites his lips and looks down into his lap, chuckling dryly as he mumbles, “You know what I felt?” when Daehyun mumbles “what” Youngjae whimpers as he tells him, “I felt like the world just exploded around me and the only thing keeping me from exploding along with it was your lips.”

“Jae…” Daehyun begins, eyes scrunched, but Youngjae cut him off.

“That kiss, was just like any other hug for you, but for me, it was intimate and warm and it gave me butterflies. What I feel for you…” Youngjae shakes his head, almost retracting his words because he doesn’t think Daehyun will ever understand. But he knows that Daehyun needs to understand. “What I feel for you, Daehyun. You could never feel for me to that extent. I love you. I lust after you.”

The man heaves a heavy sigh and looks away from his partner and up at the ceiling, tears waiting fall from his lids. “You’ll never be able to even imagine how much I feel for you. It’s not just limited to kisses on the lips or cuddling in bed.” He laughs without mirth as he explains, “I want you to hold me intimately. Caress my hair instead of ruffling them. Kiss my mouth instead of my lips. Sleep with me…” the man chokes at his own words feel ashamed and embarrassed, “instead of just sleeping beside me.”

And Daehyun doesn’t have an answer to that. He can’t. Because Youngjae isn’t entirely wrong. He can’t give Youngjae all that he wants from their relationship. All that he deserves to get. Heck! He can’t even offer the man a normal relationship. And he realises, painfully so, that it’s not fair towards him. He understands that it’s probably torture for Youngjae to be living with him like this. Always so close yet never close enough.

But, despite everything he knows that is hurting Youngjae, can’t let go of the man. He stares at the man with determination and anger in his eyes as he mutters dangerously, “you have no right to judge my love for you. You don’t get to decide whether I am capable of loving you to the extent you love me or not. You…” Daehyun icily stabs a finger into his partner’s chest and bites, “what you feel for me could never even compare to the amount I feel for you. So you better stop insulting my feelings for you by being this way, please.”

What else could Youngjae do at Daehyun’s declaration just then but look away and silently lie back down in bed again? What else could Daehyun do but drop the topic because nothing he does will ever give Youngjae enough confidence in his love for the man?

 

* * *

 

**Busan 2017**

Youngjae stares at the sea of letters in front of him and he can’t begin to even bring himself to stand as he reaches out towards the nearest suitcase to pull one out. His hands tremble as they grab hold of the letter on the top, lungs giving way to shallow, breathless gasps as he fondles the smooth cover of the envelope.

And it’s all too much. He’s not strong enough and his heart whimpers as he opens the letter. Not caring, for once, that someone is watching him.

Junhong stares at the old man weeping in front of his bed, and he wonders just how much love and regret sits within his chest. Whether his grandfather’s apology still has any meaning. Because watching Youngjae tremble at the prospect of not just one but nearly ten thousand letters scares even him. It makes his stomach boil with wrath and he feels pure hatred for his Grandfather in that one moment.

Too soon though, that hatred ebbs away and turns to despair as he watches Youngjae reading through the letters. Reading through years of self loathing, love, compassion, anger and so many of Daehyun’s emotions he can’t even name them all.

His legs don’t move, stuck where he is. Junhong has to force himself, chide himself, to leave the man alone for a while. And he turns away, his own tears flowing relentlessly, he hears the front door open - Jongup and Daehyun’s laughter wafting in.

The boy closes the door behind him and gets back to the kitchen to continue the work Youngjae had left behind.

*

Daehyun eyes his partner exiting the guest bedroom with puffy eyes and swollen lips. And he knows that Youngjae had been crying while he and Jongup were out bringing food. He turns to Junhong for an answer but the forlorn look in the boy’s eyes makes him tread away from the topic for a while.  _It’s probably about Wonnie_ , he consoles himself.

He could always just ask Youngjae after dinner during bed.

Instead, he turns his attention towards his grandson. Smiling as he watches Jongup smile like he’s high as he talks to Junhong and tries to make him smile. And just like that, a memory filters in front of his eyes, making him smile.

_Flashback_

_With glee and utter amusement dancing in his eyes, Daehyun watches the pair of boys plucking strawberries in his backyard._

_Junhong, five years old but already speaking fluently, is giggling every now and then at his friend’s pronunciation of ‘strawberry’._

_“It’s not stawbewy, Jongup!” Junhong giggles once again, letting a few of the strawberries in his basket drop. But Daehyun doesn’t point it out to the boys yet because he’s more invested in their little conversation on the proper pronunciation of the word Strawberry._

_“Yeah yeah~” Jongup drones out the laughter, waving his hand, and turns back to the strawberry bush behind him._

_“Jongup!” Junhong calls out to him though, as soon as he’d turned. And Jongup turns to find Junhong’s TShirt dripping in strawberry juice, and a bunch of huge strawberries crushed in his hands. It’s obvious the boy got tired of just plucking them and began eating them instead._

_“Junhongie!” Jongup tells and Junhong’s eyes start to water. It’s a sudden change in the boys demeanour just a second ago where the younger one had been giggling and Jongup feels like a stupid chicken for yelling at him._

_“No. No no no. Don’t cry, Junhongie” he begins whispering, getting on the tip of his toes to wipe Junhong’s eyes as he coos at the boy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I just got suwpwised!”_

_But Junhong doesn’t stop crying and Daehyun is just about to get up and collect the boys when Jongup decides to simply kiss Junhong. On the lips._

_The man stands stalk still watching Junhong hiccup for a while but soon mellow down because of the kiss. He frowns at the two boys in front of him because he’s never really seen two boys kiss each other._

_Honestly, he had believed that he would find it disgusting. Or at least disturbing, watching two boys kiss each other. But that’s really not how he feels while watching them._

_He feels happy and giddy and soft at their little antics. And when Junhong wipes his eyes with the strawberries still in hand and the juice smudging his face, he doesn’t stop the boy. Because Jongup is already pulling the boy towards the tap in the corner of the strawberry plants. And he’s wiping the sticky mess on Junhong with scrunched eyes and a focused expression._

_And Daehyun thinks it’s beautiful. Those two boys together. He thinks it’s just right. And he wonders why that couldn’t be him and Youngjae._

_And jarringly, he comes to the conclusion that it’s not just platonic love that Youngjae has wanted. Youngjae has loved him and Daehyun love him too, but there’s was no sexual attraction from his side._

_Maybe that’s why the two boys don’t disgust him. Their innocent and clueless of their actions. Maybe, at the end of the day, he’s the problem._

_But for now, he’d like to ignore that. For now, he just wants to watch his two little boys playing with strawberries and giggling and tittering around his garden while Youngjae buys them cotton candy from the store._

_Flashback Over_

Daehyun snaps back from his flashback when Youngjae taps his hand on the table and he turns to the man to find his eyes red rimmed and lips trembling. He’s just about to ask Youngjae what’s wrong but the man speaks up before he gets the chance to. “Could you wrap up dinner tonight, please? I feel like turning in a little early.”

A slow nod is what Daehyun returns him with a quick squeeze of his hand. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” He jerks his head towards the boys and snickers, “I’ll get the boys to help me clean up.”

Youngjae lazily nods his head and walks out the kitchen. His steps slow and sloppy. Daehyun turns back to the boys but Junhong  keeps looking in the direction Youngjae went and that worries him.

Soon, dinner ends and Jongup claims to be too stuffed to even move and Junhong seems to share the boys opinion, so Daehyun doesn’t ask them to. Instead, he cleans up the leftovers and asks the boys to turn in already because they have an early day tomorrow if they want to go to the beach.

He’s just turning off the kitchen lights, having stacked the side dishes away, when he sees Jongup standing in the threshold of the kitchen entrance.

A frown makes its way on his forehead, because wasn’t Jongup  _‘too stuffed to move’_  just a second ago?  _‘Why the hell is everyone acting so weird today?!’_

Nonetheless he ruffles the boy’s hair as he starts pulling him out the kitchen and towards the boys bedroom.

“Something bothering you, Jongup?”

The boy heaves a sigh and Daehyun knows that’s an indication of something heavy in the boy’s chest. “Grandpa…” He begins and Daehyun chooses to let him collect his thoughts before speaking. “Grandpa, I’m your grandson, right?”

Daehyun watches the boy’s eyes tremble in their sockets, begging him not to lie. But he can’t fathom a reason he would lie in the first place. “Of course you are, Jongup. What’s gotten into you?”

“No” Jongup closes his eyes and fists his hands, willing his senses to not betray him. “No I mean… I mean I’m really YOUR grandson, right? As in, genuinely, blood related?”

And now Daehyun knows exactly what the boy is asking him and he’s terrified beyond measure. He doesn’t want to answer because he knows Jongup knows already. Licking his lips that have suddenly dried, Daehyun places his hand over the boy’s shoulder as begins, “now, Jongup…”

But Jongup shakes his head and cuts him off, “just… just tell me what happened. Please…”

His voice breaks as he begs Daehyun and a part of Daehyun breaks too. At the boy’s query.

“It was a couple of months after her marriage” Daehyun begins, holding on to Jongup as if he would disappear if he let go. “Her husband was out on a project from the factory and she didn’t want to be alone. She was drunk and…”

“So you…” Jongup bites his lips because he’s aware that what he was going to say sound rude and accusatory and tries to another way of posing his question. But he’s too late because Daehyun has already sensed what Jongup’s query would be. “She… she never consented?”

He shakes his head and his throat goes dry as the man remembers the day his life changed. “No. And I know, I’m wrong. I shouldn’t have. It’s not fair, I know.” Daehyun sighs and chuckles dryly as he adds, “for what it’s worth, I was just as drunk as her. But when I woke up in the morning, I remembered everything. She forgot.”

Jongup stares at his grandfather and he stretches his hand out to grab the man’s on his shoulder. For a second Daehyun’s eyes reflect fear, that’ll he’ll move that hand. But Jongup presses it instead as he continues, “so you decided not to tell her.”

The old man nods, relief reflected in his eyes, “I decided not to tell her.”

The boy leans into his grandfather’s embrace, pressing his cheeks in the man’s chest as he continues, “she’s still alive, isn’t she?”

Daehyun nods his head, locking the boy in his arms and pressing his chin on the boy’s head. “She’s with Himchan.”

“Of course she is,” Jongup’s nonchalant tone denies his shock as he adds, “no wonder you’d run off every month to his place.”

The grandfather chuckles, rocking a little with his grandson in his arms, as he recalls, “Himchan said we needed to give her a new environment. That I couldn’t be with her because I was a reminder of her past. And that she needed medical help.” He pulls Jongup back and looks him in the eyes as he states, “I had to choose between her and Jonghwan. And I chose your father.”

Jongup nods his head before leaning back into the embrace, muttering “I’m glad you did.”

*

124 Jung-Dong,  
Haeundae, Busan  
March 9 1996

Dear Youngjae,

Can you believe I’m a grandfather now? Can you believe I’m so old now that I actually have a grandson!

I am on the seventh heaven and floating higher still, Jae! My grandson! My grandson is finally here and he’s so much more beautiful than I have ever imagined he would be!

He’s got Jonghwan’s eyes, and nose and lips and honestly he’s Jonghwan in compressed form!

My hands are shaking at the giddiness I feel because my Grandson is here and he’s healthy and he’s the sweetest piece of this universe!

You remember how scared we all were that there were complications with Hesoo’s pregnancy? Gosh! It was hell for me! I was scared shitless!

But he’s here now and he’s healthy and so is Hesoo. And Jonghwan, honestly is floating in air with how happy he is. Twenty One years old and already a father. That boy - he’s no longer a boy now…

I’m so happy today, Jae. I’m happy and for once, I almost forgot about writing this letter to you.

This crazy montage of my letters almost ended today. I almost got liberated from of my duty towards you today.

But I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t forget about you even at my happiest moment. And I woke up in the middle of the night to write and post this letter on time.

I miss you, Jae. So much. But I’m happy today. Genuinely, very happy. And it’s all because of my cute, little Sugar plum. It’s all because of my sweet, Jongup.

I love you,  
Daehyun

 *

Youngjae is busy preparing their bed for the night when Daehyun’s arms lock his own in a snug embrace. Holding the man in a tight back hug, Daehyun rests his chin on Youngjae’s shoulder and mumbles into his neck, “are you gonna tell me why you were crying today or do I have to ask Junhong what happened?” When Youngjae doesn’t reply, Daehyun further snuggles his face into the crack in the man’s neck and whispers, “did Youngwon say something before passing away that Junhong told you today?”

And Youngjae’s spine goes chill with the inquiry. He pulls at the steady arms wrapped around his waist and just as Daehyun is pulling away, he turns around in the man’s embrace. Placing his arms across his partner’s shoulders. There’s a unique glint in the man’s eyes, one that Daehyun has never seen in his eyes. And there’s a dangerous shine in his eyes. Daehyun waits for Youngjae to make a move. He gives him the liberty to choose what to do next and what Youngjae does next shocks him.

The man leans down, dipping his head and kisses Daehyun. Slow and just right. Not pushing too much but just enough to make all the blood in his veins to flow in twice the speed.

And when he pulls back, Daehyun is left speechless, because the Youngjae he knew would’ve died before initiating any kind of skinship with him. The Youngjae he knew, would’ve never kissed him.

But it seems that the man standing in front of him isn’t Youngjae at all. Because just as he thinks Youngjae will pull away, the man leans back again and kisses him once again.

This time, however, it isn’t the soft kisses he’s always known. It’s a strong, harsh and desperate kiss. Holding years of emotions, earning and just a hint of faith. And for once, Daehyun thinks he doesn’t want Youngjae to pull back.

But Youngjae does pull back. Too soon and not soon enough. Because by now, Daehyun finds himself addicted to the taste on the man’s lips. And as Youngjae pulls away, Daehyun finds himself falling forward. But his partner is there to catch him and Youngjae chuckles into his hands, sitting down in the bed, pulling Daehyun beside him by the arm.

Daehyun stares at the man beside him. A lopsided smile on his lips as he continues gazing at the man who’s laughing like he’s the happiest man on earth. And presses a kiss into Youngjae’s lips. Laughing like a madman when Youngjae doesn’t pull back, instead presses closer. And like they're riding in a boat of happiness. Giggling like two nineteen year olds in love.

And in this moment, it doesn’t matter that Daehyun has been in love with some other woman for a longer part of his life than he’s spent with Youngjae. And it doesn’t matter that Youngjae is more sexually attracted to Daehyun than Daehyun is to him.

What matters is that Daehyun enjoys their little kisses and snuggling with him on cold days. What matters is that Youngjae realises now that Daehyun loves him more than he could ever love the man back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! OMG! OH! EM! GEE!!!!!  
> The final chapter is upon is people!!!  
> Be ready for the finale next week~~~  
> PS: I'm sure everyone knows who the girl Jimin fell in love with is, so that mystery is a bust.  
> Instead, I am SO SO SO excited to finally end this story because:  
> a) I had done SO much research for this here story. I had look up dates and addresses and timings and it took me a whole lot of shit to get the time instances right and at one point I had just wanted to give up on the story but my lovely readers had really helped me through this journey.  
> b) I actually have another story I am SO EXCITED for and it's gonna be a YoungLo and I am literally shaking in my boots just thinking about it cuz it's SO RIVETING!!!  
> [It's about a Youngjae who's a nymphomaniac prostitute who hates commitment and enjoys whoring around and Zelo who's a college going goodboy who has a crush on Youngjae. So Youngjae offers Zelo to buy a night with him and Zelo turns... to... unconventional ways of getting money... ANyway! Do look forward to it soon!!!!]


	18. The 10,871th Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO! ONG!  
> PS: the final chapter will be post today as well!!!

124 Jung-Dong,

Haeundae, Busan

March 7 1997

 

Dear Youngjae,

Jongup said his first word today. Obviously, he said Mumma. Jonghwan was quite petulant about that but he soon forgot that tiny detail in favour of cooing at his son for giggling after speaking.

 

I wonder when he’ll start calling me Grandpa. It’s a far off bet, I know, but I don’t mind waiting for it for a long, long time. I don’t want Jongup to grow up just yet. And you know better than anyone how good I am at waiting.

 

Can you believe I waited for over thirty years for this day? I will finally stop writing to you. I will finally meet you again.

 

When I received that phone call today and Youngwon told me that you wanted to talk, you will never realise how my heart stopped beating. And when you finally spoke. In that same deep tone of yours that you know I was always jealous of; I started crying, Jae.

 

Jonghwan got concerned, Hesoo got worried. I think even little Jongup realised that his Grandpa was not alright. The boy got awfully quiet all of a sudden. 

 

I don’t know what happened, Jae. When you asked to meet, the first thing that came to my mind was Is he alright? Why does he suddenly want to meet? I hope nothing bad has happened.

 

But then I calmed myself. I told myself that it’s probably nothing too serious. Youngjae is alright. He’s okay. And I know you’re okay, Jae. Because nothing bad has happened to me yet either.

 

And I can’t wait to meet you tomorrow. In fact, this final letter to you is proof of my restlessness tonight. I don’t need to write this to you. I don’t need to vent anymore. But here I am. Speaking to you nonetheless. 

 

And tomorrow when we meet, 

 

I love you, 

Daehyun

* * *

 

**Busan 2017**

The early morning sifts through the window blinds as Jongup snuggles his face into the duvet, being an early bird is just one of those things he failed to inherit from his grandfather. Trying to ignore the sun beating down his neck, he chooses to relish in Junhong’s bed voice humming some obscure melody as he trudges into the joint bathroom. He shuffles up in bed as he stares at the locked bathroom door, gazing at it with a lopsided smile, he’s not sure what it is, but he just knows that it’s just one of those mornings that he feels like staying in bed would be a waste. 

 

So, despite every bone in his body protesting dramatically to just stay, Jongup jumps out of bed and heads to the bathroom to freshen up. Today feels like it’ll be an awfully big day already.

 

As soon as he pushes the bathroom door though, he finds Junhong standing over the toilet bowl, peeing sleepily. Hair ruffled and head lolling back and forth. Looking delectably innocent. Now, Jongup knows that they’ve been best friends since diaper days so seeing Junhong hold his dick, shouldn’t really bother him. 

 

But it does! And Oh! How it does.

 

He quickly slams the door behind his back and mutters a curse under his breath as he decides to just use the common bathroom instead. Unbeknownst to him, Junhong is staring red-cheeked at his own reflection in the mirror as he moves towards the wash basin. And as he realises that surely it must’ve been Jongup who slammed the door on behind him, he’s not sure what he feels. 

 

But he’s sure he doesn’t exactly feel embarrassed.

 

_ Flashback _

_ Jongup stares at his grandfather watching Youngjae with the most gentle eyes as he wonders just how could they have ended up where they were. Daehyun must’ve sensed Jongup’s brain cells bursting with all the thoughts running through them because he soon turns to his grandson and pats his head for attention.  _

 

_ “Don’t overthink things, Jongup” the man says, “you might burn the house down with how fast your thoughts are running.” _

 

_ “Grandpa…” Jongup licks his lips before finally asking, “why didn’t you just approach Uncle Yoo before? Why did you wait so long?” _

 

_ Daehyun guffaws at the boy’s question, shuffling closer to the boy. “I can’t believe you’re still thinking about that.” _

 

_ “Of course I am, Grandpa!” Jongup whines, staying mindful of Youngjae while he works in the garden. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t just reach out sooner for him. If you knew you loved him, why did you follow him to Seoul but not meet him? Why did you continue to just write him letters? It would’ve been so easy to just talk to him.” _

 

_ “Had it been the past, I would’ve fought you on that by now…” the old man shakes his head and huffs, “now I don’t think you’re all too wrong.” _

 

_ He pats Jongup’s hand as he explains, “The nineteen-year-old that time wanted to give his best friend a choice. For Daehyun then, freedom to choose was everything and he didn’t stop to think what a nineteen-year-old Youngjae wanted. He didn’t stop to think that maybe what Youngjae wanted wasn’t a choice. That maybe Youngjae wanted a conviction. A clear decision from Daehyun.”  _

 

_ The old man sighs in regret as he explains “nineteen-year-old Daehyun didn’t understand that maybe Youngjae had already made his choice. A choice to run away from a society that would frown upon his feelings for his friend. Youngjae didn’t need a choice when he went away back then. He needed me to bring him back but I was too oblivious to understand it back then.” _

 

_ Jongup finds himself speechless because he understands the man. He understands his grandfather wanting to give his best friend, his lover, the choice to choose their lives. And he understands that it was a noble thought indeed. But he also knows that Daehyun had made mistakes too. His lack of conviction. His determination towards his own opinion. His inability to understand just what Youngjae needed. _

 

_ And somehow his own feelings become clear to him. His feelings towards one certain boy who is busy helping Uncle Yoo in the garden. Planting strawberries. Jongup realises that in giving someone a choice and space, he may just be pushing him away too. And he realises, like a lightning hitting him, that he loves Junhong. He’s known it for too long but he now he wants to say it. _

 

_ And he realises that saying it out could ruin their relationship but he also knows that it is a risk he’s willing to take. Because he’s seen what lack of communication can do. And he doesn’t want to turn into another Daehyun and Youngjae. Always running away from their emotions because they ‘think’ they are right.  _

 

_ And as Daehyun continues speaking, Jongup becomes surer of his decision of confessing his feelings to Junhong. _

 

_ “Nineteen-year-old Daehyun still didn’t know everything there was to know about the boy he claimed his best friend. And nineteen Youngjae had too much faith.” Daehyun tells him and Jongup silently agree with his grandfather. Nodding his head as Daehyun tells him “and when I followed him to Seoul, my soul was already scarred with the trauma of a nineteen-year-old r old boy who’d lost his only family. And I carried that trauma for a long long time, Jongup. I carried that trauma until I met him again.” _

 

_ “I’m glad you could meet again, Grandpa” Jongup finds himself saying, too busy watching Junhong washing his hands in the water hose. _

 

*

 

“Did you two have a fight or something?” Daehyun asks them over breakfast watching Jongup and Junhong completely ignoring each other since they greeted them good morning. Jongup barely manages to choke out a denial and Junhong looks like he is ready to burst a nerve at the looks the two elders send his way.

 

Youngjae watches the two boys awkwardly trying to manoeuvre their hands around the table - trying to not let their hands get too close to each other’s - and he shares a look with Daehyun which clearly means  _ intervention _ . So, as soon as breakfast is done, the man doesn't spare a second before pulling Jongup aside claiming they need to “get some hanwoo for you boys tonight”.

 

As soon as Jongup steps out though, Junhong becomes scarily aware of the fact that he’s alone in the house with Daehyun. He’s terrified of the man’s presence. And he knows that Daehyun is nothing but a kind soul who loves his grandson dearly and who has no qualms against anyone in the world. But he’s also aware of the fact that he himself, is the grandson of the very man who has done him wrong. Who has broken his heart beyond repair. And Junhong knows that Daehyun never got the justice he deserves.

 

“Junhongie?” Daehyun’s voice filters through the thick silence and he looks up from his plate to see the man giving him a warm smile. “You okay, son?” his words hold the kind of concern Youngwon’s voice had held and he frowns at the warmth in his voice. As if he really cares. 

 

And Junhong realises that Daehyun truly does care because the man is beside him in a second. His arms securely around his shoulders, and his hand patting his face. “Did you and Jongup have a fight or something? What’s the matter with you two today?”

 

The knowledge of what Youngwon had done in the past hits him with full force as Junhong looks back into those concerned eyes and he can’t stop himself from speaking. “I found your letters, Deok Ajusshi. All… all of them.” He has to stop himself from speaking because he feels tears forming in his eyes and his voice shakes with an effort to hold himself together.

 

Daehyun pulls away at his declaration and Junhong feels like a little boy with his blanket was taken away on a very cold day and he whimpers at the lack of warmth but doesn’t whine. He waits for the outburst. Imagines Daehyun finally getting angry and cursing his Grandfather out, now that the man is dead. Or maybe he’ll take his anger out on Junhong and kick him out of the house. Banning him from Jongup’s life as well.

 

But Daehyun remains calm as he watches Junhong squirm in his seat. Stealing glances at him but looking away too soon for fear of being caught. “Have you read them?” Daehyun asks voice calm as ever and with a hint of detachment in it.

 

The boy hesitates, wondering if lying would be the better option. He decides against the notion almost immediately as he realises that Daehyun has been lied too for far too long. Enough to last a lifetime.  “Yes.” A whimper escapes his lips.

 

Daehyun’s eyes shine with an unbridled sadness as he pats Junhong’s shoulders, standing up from where he was sat next to Junhong and walking away towards the balcony. “I’ve already forgiven Youngwon, Junhong.”

 

“You shouldn’t have,” Junhong whispers, sitting still where he was because he’s incapable of making another move. Because the weight of his grandfather’s sins anchors him to that single place of existence. 

 

Daehyun shakes his head at the boy’s words and peers at him from behind old eyes, constantly smiling. “Your grandfather, above all, was my friend too, Junhong. I could’ve resented him all my life and his, but would that have changed the fact that he fed me when my own father used to beat me out of the house on bad days? Or would it make up for the thousands of times he stood in front of my father, the town’s people, his own father, when they abused me for reasons I still don’t understand?” the old man shakes his head lazily as he recounts with a chuckle, “He gave me shelter when I needed it and when I went against his morals he still tried to save from that godforsaken town.” 

 

“But he hurt you!” Junhong grits his teeth and stomps his feet as he turns to the man. He’s just so agitated with the man's words. His faith. His sacrifice. “He hurt you! You should’ve hurt him back! You should’ve done something!” he’s heaving but that doesn’t stop him from stomping towards Daehyun and grabbing his shoulders and shaking him as he yells. “You let him just die with the knowledge that you’d forgiven him! But he still felt guilty. He still died feeling all the guilt the world had to offer him! And he never once was at peace!”

 

At the boy’s words, alarm shines in Daehyun’s words as he finally realises what the boy is talking about. And he fears that maybe the boy isn’t lying. “I forgave him, Junhong” he tries to calmly explain. Desperate. “I did that because I didn’t want him to have any guilt. I wanted him to realise that I understand and that he shouldn't feel guilty?”

 

“But he  _ was  _ guilty, Deok Ajusshi.” Junhong whines, letting his head fall into Daehyun’s embrace. “He was guilty and he knew that till the day he died. He cherished those letters and I know despite hiding them away in a box, he opened them every day! And he hated himself all his life!” 

 

Choking back tears, he allows Daehyun to pull him close as he continues, whimpering into the man’s shirt that oddly smells just like Youngwon. “He used to cry at nights” he whispers, still standing in the embrace. Keeping his arms tight around the elder as if from fear of Daehyun vanishing. “I used to think it was because of pain, old age. As I grew up I thought maybe it’s because of his firstborn. Maybe his brother whom he had lost years ago. Maybe his father. But my Grandpa wasn’t the kind of man to shed tears over someone for so long.”

 

Junhong pulls back from the embrace and looks Daehyun dead in the eyes as if to prove a point, “he cried every night because he was guilty, Deok Ajusshi. He cried because he never got the punishment he deserved and nothing he did let that guilt subside.”

 

“This is not what I wanted, Junhong” Daehyun mutters, patting the boy’s cheeks as the realisation hits him. “I just wanted to forgive him because I thought that was the right thing to do. And I still believe that was only right.” When he sees Junhong start to speak, he cuts the boy off as he continues. “He was trying to protect his brother, my friend, my lover. And I couldn’t blame him for that. Whatever methods he used, at the end of the day he was still just a man trying to save his brother.”

 

Weakly, almost as if he’s too beaten up to even speak, Junhong shakes his head as he starts crying. “A sin, no matter for what reason it was committed, needs to be met with punishment for it to be cleared off, Grandpa. Forgiveness is like placing ice on a wound that needs to be bandaged. It might stop hurting, but the scar will remain forever.”

 

Their eyes continue to stare at each other and a while edges away in heated internal monologues where Junhong curses himself forever wanting to come all the way to Busan and Daehyun contemplates just how big of a mistake he might have made in an attempt to make things better. And the fact that Junhong had accidentally called Daehyun Grandpa escapes both of them as they both of them wait for the other to speak.

 

However, it seems that neither wants to break the silence between them and they simply move away. Because what could they even talk about from that point on. They stay standing where they are, and too soon, Jongup and Youngjae come back. 

* * *

 

**Suwon, 2012**

The steam swirling above their teacups seems to be the only moving thing in the room where the two old men sit waiting for the other to speak. Daehyun knows what this is about and he has his answer already prepared. He has rehearsed it several times already and he is ready for anything Youngwon might say. 

 

Youngwon takes in a shaky breath before turning his head to look out his bedroom window. Daehyun follows his line of sight and smiles at the scene of Jongup and Junhong doing homework out on the porch. For a second he doesn’t even hear Youngwon speaking, “I’m sorry, Daehyun. I’m really very sorry.” Daehyun turns to him then and he can see the guilt shining in his eyes as sunlight reflected. “I was selfish. I only wanted what was best for my brother and I didn’t want to think about how I might be hurting him and you and how immoral I was being. In that time, all that mattered was protecting Youngjae.”

 

“Youngwon,” Daehyun begins, licking his lips as he contemplates what to say. Suddenly tongue-tied, “I can understand why you did what you did, Youngwon. And I don’t blame you for it.” He heaves a sigh and smiles at his old friend as he continues, “Sometimes… we do things in order to protect the ones we love and we never realise that we're only hurting them more by doing those things. I would know.”

 

The old man opposite to him chuckles as shakes his head, pulling out one of the rice cakes Daehyun had brought with him while bringing Jongup to meet Junhong. “I would’ve appreciated it if you would have just punched me into a pulp and sworn to never see me again.”

 

“That eager to get rid of me, huh?” Daehyun raises his eyes with a sneaky grin. When Youngwon simply smiles at him rather bitterly he further explains, “I’ve tried protecting someone in the past who didn’t need my protection too, Youngwon.” He sighs heavily as he explains, “she didn’t need my protection. She needed me to let go. But I was too stubborn, too scared of hurting her. Too scared she’d end up hurting herself. I just… kept tightening my grips until all there were left were scars.”

 

Youngwon stares at the man opposite to him and waits a while before finally speaking, “so you left her?” And in the question lies awe, Daehyun realises, as Youngwon wonders how could Daehyun just let go of someone he dearly loved. And he’s not exactly curious to find out who it might’ve been because he’s read the man’s letters too many times to know who Daehyun is talking about.

 

Daehyun shrugs and reaches for a rice cake and explains rather nonchalantly, “love is like that. Especially for me.” A dry laugh leaves his lips as he holds the rice cake in his pinched fingers, looking at it, “the thing called love is like the most delicious rice cake in the world. The last morsel left on earth. And I am a diabetic man on the brink of dying from starvation.” He chuckles, biting down on the treat as he explains, “I’ve got bad luck with love. My mother. Father. The woman I had loved. Youngjae.” Heaving a sigh he complains, like a child almost, “I can never have love.”

 

“You had Jonghwan.” Youngwon reminds him, with a warm smile, “and you’ve got Jongup.” Daehyun smiles back at the man as he hears the boys on the porch cheering for someone. The two men turn to the porch and find Youngjae standing outside the house fence, waving at Jongup to send Daehyun home. It pains Youngwon to see Youngjae standing there, never crossing the boundary of his home because he had promised himself to never step foot in his house. And the elder turns to Daehyun, watching him stand up and pulling on his raincoat. And he doesn’t stop himself from speaking, “and you still have Youngjae, Daehyunie.”

 

The old nickname makes a smile bloom onto the younger man’s lips as he turns back to the window, watching Youngjae wave at him. “You’re right,” he says and for once, he believes it too.

* * *

 

**Busan 2017**

“Did you eat well, Junhongie?” Daehyun asks the boy after they’re done. They are all in the backyard, Youngjae and Jongup are still eating but seeing Junhong get up too soon from the dinner table, had made Daehyun concerned. So now, the two are sitting on the back yard steps watching Youngjae and Jongup cook more hanwoo. 

 

Junhong nods slowly before smiling at the old man, choosing to not speak. The old man then places an arm over the boy’s shoulder and shakes him a little as he starts speaking, “you know I’m an atheist, but if there was ever a notion I wanted to believe more than anything it is reincarnation.”

 

“Why’s that?” Junhong whispers and it makes Daehyun smile because Junhong has always been a curious child. And the look of childish curiosity scrunched eyebrows and the tiniest pout,  makes the boy’s doe eyes enlarge just the slightest. 

 

Daehyun shrugs, looking up at the starry sky as he explains, “I want to be born again and get another chance at falling in love with Youngjae. Properly.” He turns to Junhong and finds the boy staring at him with just as starry eyes as he waits for the old man to continue, “I want to fall in love with him with all the feelings he deserves. And sometimes… I feel like I may not be a religious man. But,” he sighs looking back at the sky, ruffling Junhong’s hair as he says, “but I feel I might be better enough for God, if he exists, to help me out.”

 

Junhong hums at the man’s words and Daehyun smiles because he’s thankful that he was able to distract Junhong from his worried thoughts. And he doesn’t expect Junhong to speak again but when the boy starts speaking, he finds himself unconsciously paying attention. “What’s the guarantee that you won’t make the same mistakes again if you’re reincarnated?” 

 

Staring at the boy, Daehyun ponders over the inquiry, but Junhong seems to have too many things to say because he doesn’t wait for the man to answer. “You might still end up ruining things. Maybe you were meant to make the same mistakes. Maybe you won’t be able to make things better. Because maybe by the time you remember how things went bad, you would have already made all the important decisions in life and ruined everything. Maybe by the time you realise that you were supposed to fall in love with Uncle Yoo, it was already too late?”

 

“I don’t think that’s how reincarnation works, Junhongie” Daehyun explains. “You think of it as an act of causation. That only death would result in reincarnation. I died so I was reincarnated and when I come of age I’ll remember my mistakes and make the right choices. that’s not how I see it. ” Shaking his head, Daehyun chuckles as he continues, “I see it as an ongoing process.”

 

“You know some people believe that before the Dalai Lama dies, he already knows who he’ll be reincarnated as. He can choose who he wants to be born as long before he dies.” The boy nods his head in understanding as he hangs off the man’s every word. “In fact, they could be born and already be of age by the time the Dalai Lama dies. They could be old or young or just about anybody really. At least… I like to think of reincarnation in the way.”

 

Junhong hums in understanding and lets the elder’s words tumble inside his mind. Thinking and rethinking what those words actually mean before coming up with another question. “Do you mean to say… Do you already know who you’ll be reincarnated as when you die?”

 

“Yep~ I do!” Daehyun snickers at the boy delighted that Jungkoko seems to follow him. “And I also who Youngjae’s reincarnation is.”

 

“What do you mean?” the boy frowns, turning his head to the side with a pout to boot. 

 

“We’re watching over them, Junhongie.” Daehyun confides in the boy, watching Jongup stuff his mouth with meat wrapped in saran. “We’ve known for a while now. And we’re always ready to step in when we know things are going the wrong way.” He huffs gently as he gets to his feet, turning to the boy, and offering him his hand, “I like to believe that reincarnation is a way to pass on our consciousness to another being. One who we trust, who we know knows best. Someone we want help. There’s always a purpose, Junhongie.”

 

And in that moment, Daehyun seems different to Junhong. He looks at the man’s hand and they are small but they reach out to him the same way his Grandpa’s did. And for a second he thinks he sees Youngwon’s dimples in the man’s smile. He reaches out to hold the hand and pulls himself up asking one last question for the night. “Do you think my Grandpa might be reincarnated as well?”

 

Daehyun pulls the boy into a side embrace and starts pulling him towards the garden table, humming in assurance, “Youngwon was an atheist like me, Junhongie. But he loved you dearly.” Ruffling the boy’s hair, he brings up his chopsticks with a piece of beef in them near his lips, “I like to believe he’s been watching over you for a while now.”

 

Tears brimming his eyes, Junhong nods his head and takes the bite offered to him, “thank you, Grandpa Daehyun. I’d like him to know I don’t blame him. That I love him immensely.”

 

“I’m sure he already knows that my son.”

 

*****

 

“Remember to call as soon as you two get back, Jongup!” Youngjae yells as the two boys board the train, waving his arms around frantically as he waves them goodbye.

 

“Relax!” Daehyun chides him, pulling him away as the train runs out of sight. “He always remembers to call doesn’t he?”

 

“Yeah yeah.” the younger man shakes his head, heaving a sigh. “I’ll miss those two though.”

 

“They’ll be back during spring break or something” Daehyun reminds him. “Besides, we need to get packed too, so let’s hurry back home.”

 

Youngjae stops in his tracks and raises an eye at the man, hands on his hips as he asks, “and why exactly are we packing up?”

 

Daehyun looks at him seriously for once, taking his hands in his own as he sighs. “We should visit Youngwon, Jae. It’s been months.”

 

And Youngjae wants to refuse. He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t even want to admit to Daehyun that he’s sad and misses his brother. But his emotions fail him as tears trail down his face and he can’t help but nod in agreement.

 

And Daehyun holds him. In the middle of the crowded station. Amidst thousands of eyes, he simply holds the man. Crying because he misses Youngwon all the more today.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PEOPLE I AM CRYING BECAUSE THE FINAL CHAPTER IS GONNA BE NEXT!


	19. Youngwon's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heads Up:  
> The first scene is referencing to the ending scene from The Diary where Jongup confesses to Junhong in the snowfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that Youngwon and Daehyun will obviously have different letter writing styles so~

**Seoul 2018**

It’s been four months since that night Jongup had confessed to Junhong in the snow and he still can’t believe that they’re dating. He looks at the boy sleeping next to him, the moonlight shining sinfully over the crack of his ass covered just enough by the bed sheets and he has to rub his eyes to make sure this isn’t a dream.

 

The memory of that night filters into his eyes, as he edges out of bed. He remembers Jongup calling him out in the snow. Them sharing gloves, coffee and a kiss. And Jongup telling about Youngjae’s diary. It all still seems like a dream to Junhong and he can’t stop smiling these days.

 

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Junhong picks up the phone and settles into the armchair in the balcony. He dials the number and waits for the other line to accept and soon as he hears the warm voice, he can’t help but smile.

 

_“Junhongie! How are you?”_

 

Junhong chuckles happily and pushes into the cushions. “How did you know it was me though, Grandpa?”

 

 _“Please,”_ Daehyun drones and Junhong can easily see the man roll his eyes and shake his head. _“It couldn’t have been any of the other oldies. Himchan sleeps way too early for his beauty sleep or whatever, and Yonggukie is probably too busy watching those idol shows. And it couldn’t have been Jongup because that boy is the single most careless boy in the world.”_

 

Laughing like a mad man at the elder’s words, Junhong almost chokes trying to not make too much noise because Jongup is still sleeping. “How are you then, Grandpa? How’s Uncle Kim?”

 

 _“I’m fine, Junhongie”_ Daehyun hums, and Junhong hears him getting into bed. _“Youngjae is good too. We just came back from Suwon yesterday.”_

 

“Thank you, Grandpa” Junhong whispers into the receiver, sleep slowly taking hold of him after having spoken to the man. “Thank you for taking him to meet Grandpa.”

 

 _“Thank you too, Junhongie”_ Daehyun mumbles into the phone, _“Youngjae finally accepted my love thanks to you.”_

 

“That was all you, Grandpa” Junhong chuckles, “it was your letters that showed him just how much he was loved.”

 

A silence follows Junhong’s words where Junhong almost falls asleep but Daehyun speaks again, _“I’m proud to have you as my grandson, Junhongie.”_

 

Junhong doesn’t hesitate as he replies, “I’m proud of you too, Grandpa Daehyun.” He waits for a second, licking his lips, knowing well enough that Daehyun is waiting, “I’m proud of you, Grandpa.”

 

And it doesn’t escape anyone what meaning hides behind the boy’s words and soon after, Junhong hangs up. He walks back into his bedroom and snuggles beside Jongup. Pulling the elder into his arms as he smiles at the little whines Jongup issues. And he smiles as he falls asleep.

 

Daehyun returns his phone back to the table beside him and pulls his drawer to reach for a letter. A letter he reads almost every other day. He trails his fingers over the envelope and smiles as he pulls out the letter once more.

 

1998, 21st June

Sunday, 11 AM

3343 Choryang Ee-dong, Dong-gu, Busan

From Yoo Youngwon

 

Dear Daehyun,

Loyalty is such a unique concept, don’t you think? You come in contact with someone; be it a parent, sibling, a friend or even a friendly face. A pet even. Or even just an acquaintance. And you instantly form a connection with them.

 

We all have this basic sense of loyalty in us. The loyalty towards your family, or an animal that depends on you. Or anyone who’s loyal to you just because they are human and can offer a human emotion. This carnal need to be kind to a person you have affection for. The ingrained ability to stand up for a friend or to defend a loved one. The simple instinct to help a person out because they’re humans too.

 

Most of us are able to be loyal enough to be just humans. We do enough to not break anyone’s trust. Or lie or cheat or betray anyone. Most of us, being only humans, can also be disloyal sometimes.

 

I know I have been more than just a disloyal man, Daehyun. I know I have done things that might never let me have the luxury of having your trust again. Or Youngjae’s too for that matter. I’ve trampled the limit of human instincts and gone out of my way to hurt not only you but Youngjae too in the process. The fact that I did it to protect my brother, isn’t enough, I am aware. My supposed “loyalty” to my brother and his feelings have caused me to become a sinner in front of you two. And I know, forgiveness is a mercy that you rather not bestow upon me.

 

But I also know, Daehyun, that you have made up for my lack of loyalty towards my brother. You’ve surpassed the limits of loyalty and you reached a summit of devotion that I could never fathom. And that hurts all the more because I realise that you shouldn’t have had to do that. You shouldn’t have had to cover up for my lack of dedication towards my own brother. I was too wrapped up in my own false sense of dignity to understand that my brother was hurting. I was too scared of society and how it would see me because of my brother that I selfishly tried to pry him away from you.

 

Youngjae didn’t deserve this. He deserved a brother who truly supported him. Who was truly loyal to him. Who understood.

 

The devotion you showed him outshone my loyalty towards his feelings but he never knew because I was too afraid of hurting him. He never knew of your devoutness all because he was shrouded in my betrayal. I never let him know what true loyalty was supposed to be like because I didn’t want to let go of this convenient lie I was living. That my brother was not gay. That he was normal.

 

Had I been a true brother, a true human with that basic instinct in me, I would’ve realised that my definition of what’s normal shouldn’t dictate how I treat others.

 

And no amount of apology can fix that. Nothing will fix it. I could write you a thousand letters of apology. Millions of them; but none of them will be enough to wipe the sins of betrayal from Youngjae’s heart. From yours, maybe. But not his.

 

So this letter to you, Daehyun, is more of a letter of gratitude than an apology letter. I’m grateful to you. Thankful that you chose Youngjae to be your friend. That you chose to love him to the point of sinning. That you didn’t let go of him. That you were the friend, brother, the family he needed. And I’m indebted to you for your patience. Your perseverance at making sure Youngjae somehow got to know that you were still waiting for him. Your faith in my brother.

 

And I know I don’t deserve it but I know you’ve forgiven me a long time ago.

 

So my last words to you, my friend, will not be an apology because I don’t deserve it but you’ve blessed me with it already. My last words to you, are Thank you. Thank you for forgiving me.

 

Thank you, Daehyun

* * *

 

**_Suwon 1966_ **

_“Now remember,” the shop owner yells to gain the attention of the two boys “you need to finish the entire ramen bowl in ten minutes and then whistle to win the competition!”_

 

_Daehyun rolls his eyes and grins at the man waving his arms about, getting the few people in the shop to cheer for him before he slumps back into his seat and exclaims, “yes yes! We know the rules, Mr Kang! Just give us the food already and let the game begin!”_

 

_The man, used to Daehyun’s rudeness by now, shakes his head before offering the other boy in front of him an encouraging nod of his head. “Best of luck!” He yells and starts the timer._

 

_Youngjae, too shocked by the sudden deceleration, misses the timing and starts too late as he watches Daehyun slurp away at his ramen bowl. Seemingly not at all concerned about the too hot broth. Then again, Youngjae knows Daehyun to be a food monster so he’s not surprised._

 

_What surprises him, is why he even agreed to get into this silly competition!_

 

_But he doesn’t have time to think too much into the matter because Daehyun has already finished his noodles and is now slurping away his broth and the timer shows that Youngjae has just under four minutes left to finish his own meal._

 

_Amidst the cheering customers and their jeering opponents, Youngjae grits his teeth and ignores the burning of his throat as he literally breathes down his food. Staring at the timer when Daehyun yells “I’m Done!”, slamming his empty bowl on the table._

 

_But Youngjae doesn’t spare him a look. He’s too busy staring at the timer counting down the last minute._

 

_It’s nerve-wracking and he feels like he’s in a battle as he tries to ingest the last few morsels in. The silence around him and the eyes upon him tell him that their audience is just as nervous as he is._

 

_Just as the timer starts counting down the last thirty seconds, Youngjae screams “I’m done!” But clearly, the audience isn’t satisfied because they are yelling at him to “whistle! Whistle! You need to whistle!”_

 

_He stares at the party around him then turns to Daehyun. Lips wobbling as he confesses, “I don’t know how to whistle.”_

 

_And Daehyun stares at him for the longest second before jumping out of his chair and towards him. He grabs Youngjae’s face and pinches his lips, yelling at him to “blow! Blow now!”_

 

_Rather dumbly, Youngjae follows his best friend’s command, blowing against the pinched lips and by some miracle a shrill sound of a whistle greets the silent shop._

 

_The crowd goes wild as the timer goes off right after Youngjae’s whistle and people jump into a celebratory dance. But Youngjae falls limply to his chair when Daehyun lets go of his lips to reach for their prize money._

 

_And as he stares at the frenzy around him, time goes still. All he can seem to really see, in that inevitably jarring moment, is Daehyun smiling towards him._

 

_His lips feel as if they’ve been touched with a branding stick._

 

_Forever marking him as Daehyun’s lover._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM WEEPING!
> 
> THIS WAS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER FOR ME! I had been working on this chapter since morning today and I feel so EMOTIONAL because I am finally ending this story series! And I know that my readership has dwindled over the past couple of months because of slow updates, but this story, this entire series, remains so close to my heart.  
> I have lived through this story, in the sense that I felt I was a constant part of it. And it might not be the same for you all but I do hope this story at least made you feel something. Be it happiness, sadness, angst, or anything, I just hope you all felt something.
> 
> PS: If it still not clear, I would just like to clarify that Daehyun is not actually a Bisexual man in the story. He is in fact Selectively Asexual and BiRomantic. But because I received many emails and PMs asking for clarification, I am writing this here. Yes, he did have a sexual relationship with Hana and his lover, but he is in fact Selectively Asexual because he can't feel any sexual attraction towards Youngjae but he is romantically attracted to Youngjae. And that is where the entire issue lies.  
> Many people don't understand that there are different types of attractions and many a time, even to this day, people are misunderstood and ostracised for their sexual orientation. And Daehyun, being the way he was, feeling what he did, during that time period must've been a struggle in itself. And I wanted to show this struggle through this story. But we should remember that this isn't just a struggle of one character from one story. This is an issue that is prevalent even now. So please, it's hard to try to understand other people but we should always strive to communicate our feelings and thoughts.
> 
> Now, with that over, PLEASE keep your eyes peeled for my next story:  
> Coke Bottles and Peony Stems. It's a YoungLo and I AM SO EXCITED FOR IT!
> 
> The next update on this story will be the link to 'Coke Bottles and Peony Stems'~ Until then.
> 
> Love you all,  
> Myself


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